The Trouble
by Twilightholic-Tanya
Summary: The trouble with boys like Edward Cullen is I can already see how it will end. But the thrill of driving down this road with him is almost worth the crash.
1. Once upon a time

**Title**: The Trouble

**Summary**: The trouble with boys like Edward Cullen is I can already see how it will end. But the thrill of driving down this road with him is almost worth the crash.

**Note**: So I was clearing some files off my computer and I found this story. It's pretty old, but after metaphorically wiping off the dust, I figured it was good enough to share. I think it was meant to be a one shot, but it's kind of long… so I'm just gonna have fun with it.

I'm going to post in multiple short chapters. Just because I think the story is better told with little breaks. But I'm planning on posting several times a day. This is just meant to be a short fun project while I muddle through my midterms and try not to explode from stress. Sharing stories with you guys tends to lift my spirits. I hope you like it. : )

_Once upon a time a few mistakes ago  
I was in your sights_

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Angela whispers into my ear, giggling slightly. I look up from my peanut butter and jelly and at his table.

If he was looking, he's not anymore. Instead he's laughing at the pretty girl next to him. I blush heavily and look down at my lunch. Angela doesn't try to defend her claim, and instead we change the topic.

Honestly, why would Edward Cullen stare at me?

**_I'm going to update in about an hour's time. Promise.  
_**

**_-T_**


	2. You got me alone

_...you got me alone..._

My foot catches at the door jam, and I am thrown forward.

I might have been able to catch myself if I had such a thing as grace, but because I lack it, I fall. The books I hold in my arms spill forward, littering the floor with pages of homework. I groan and feel my face heat with embarrassment. It worsens when I hear the familiar squeak of gym shoe on linoleum.

A boy stops to help with the papers I had tucked in between the pages of my biology book. He hands them to me, and I start to thank him, but the words die in my throat.

Edward Cullen is on his knees, helping me.

My face heats even brighter, and I quickly snatch the papers from his long fingers.

I stumble to my feet and dash away, much too mortified to even thank him.


	3. I guessed I liked that

… _I guess I liked that…_

The fact that he is now on my mind, playing like an endless record, bothers me. Edward Cullen is not the type of boy a girl like me should be thinking about.

Edward Cullen kisses girls like Kate Green. The type of girl that isn't afraid to take him behind the school during homecoming and do very naughty things to him.

Edward goes to parties at Mike Newton's house. The ones that get posted on Facebook the following Monday and begin scandalous rumors.

Edward hangs with Jasper Whitlock and Seth Clearwater. The boys who smell of cigarette smoke and get high in their basements.

What Edward Cullen doesn't do is look at the Police Chief's daughter. He also does not help her pick up her books when she tumbles to the ground. Edward Cullen does not, should not, think of me, Bella Swan.

And yet, these things are happening.

**_Last chapter of the night. Review and let me know you're thoughts. Can you see where this is headed? Do you need more?_**


	4. When you walked in

_…when you walked in…_

My mind is playing out a scenario in which I am brave enough to tug Edward's hand and lead him away from his too cool friends.

Of course, in my fantasy I am a sexy experienced siren and not a bumbling virgin. In my fantasy, I know exactly what I'm doing when I push him against the rough brick wall and lower to my—

"Hey." His voice is soft and startles me out of my dirty reverie. I jump and close the notebook I had been aimlessly doodling in.

I lift my head to stare at him, my cheeks permanently red and my eyes wide with shock. He smiles.

"H-hey," I stutter. I clear my throat and straighten up in my seat. I notice the class has gotten up and is merging their desks together. I feel rather lost. What did I miss?

"So…wanna be my partner?" he asks, his eyebrows rising. The yes is patiently waiting at the end of my tongue, but I realize I have no idea what I am agreeing too.

"For what?"

"The assignment," he answers, laughing that deep throaty laugh. Butterflies suddenly hatch deep in my stomach and flutter around nervously.

"Right. Which is what?" I ask, opening my spiral and flipping through my notes to see if I copied it down.

"Chapter outlines, Bella," he reminds me. I nod and shake my head, trying to clear it of the cobwebs.

"Right. Sorry. I've been distracted," I mumble and open up my copy of _The Crucible_.

We do chapter outlines for every book and every chapter we finish. It's basic and simple. State the main events and list questions for the characters and/or audience.

I usually work on this with Bree Tanner, but I see she has already partnered up with Edward's usual partner, Riley Briers.

Which makes me wonder why Edward wants to work with me?

"Not to seem rude, but why did you wanna partner up for?" I ask and blush.

"Uh, Riley's kinda been dying to hook up with Bree for a while. Figured I should stop cockblocking," he utters, and my face flames with his word choice. I don't want to seem like a prude so I simply nod and begin to write the main events of the chapter.

Surprisingly, Edward does his fair share of work and comes up with intriguing and interesting questions to ask the characters. His last question is meant to be a joke, and I snort with laughter. He grins, lifting one side of his mouth more than the other.

"You can't just ask Abigail why she's a bitch," I whisper and begin to erase the question.

"Why not? Proctor did his do and she's gotta act like all psychotic," he says.

"Maybe he shouldn't jerk girls around," I mutter, feeling like I've ruined the lazy atmosphere with my sharp tone. The bell rings, and I take the assignment up to the teacher's desk.

By the time I get to my own, Edward is gone.

**_A little longer of a chapter. I hope you guys are enjoying it. Another update later today.  
_**


	5. When he met me

_…when he met me…_

I've known Edward my whole life.

I met him in Kindergarten. I went to his seventh birthday party. We shared classes throughout sixth grade.

I was never his best friend, but I knew him. I watched him grow up. I watched him turn into the fun optimistic boy to a too cool teenager.

High school came around and the lanky red headed boy I knew didn't exist. He went from Eddie to Edward. EC to Edward Cullen. He went from 'that nice Cullen boy' to the one my father constantly warned me against.

I heard the whispers that floated through the halls and watched the pictures pop up online. I watched his aloofness towards girls and envied the few that manage to earn his famous smirk. Edward Cullen became heartbreak wrapped up in a beautiful suit.

Edward Cullen became trouble.


	6. I knew

_…I knew…_

I turn the key. The engine rumbles to life for a moment before dying. I cry out and rest my head on the steering wheel. This can't be happening to me.

A knock on my window startles me.

Edward smiles from the other side. I open the door, and he leans against it, looking like sin in a leather jacket.

"Car trouble?" he asks, but in a way that says he already knows.

"No," I say petulantly.

He laughs and asks me to turn the car on again. I do as he says, hoping it's something simple he can fix. He frowns a moment.

He lifts the truck's hood and asks me to turn the car on again. We go through this for a few minutes before he finally shuts the rusted red hood and comes back to the driver's side of the car.

"You need a new battery," he tells me. I groan.

"Need a ride home?" he asks. I want to tell him no. I want to tell him I can figure it out.

But I don't.

"Are you offering?"

He laughs and I offer a smile of my own, grabbing my bag and following him to his shiny silver Volvo.

I can't help of think of that book I read a few months back.

All about the troubles of riding in cars with boys.

_**Lost update of the day, folks. Review and let me know your thoughts on the story so far.  
See you tomorrow :)**_


	7. So shame on me now

_…so shame on me now…_

I am a good girl.

Having your father as the police chief of your small rainy town helps cements this trait.

But beside that, I have always been a good girl. It's in my nature.

I don't care to drink, hating the taste of alcohol and knowing all the dangers. I hate the smell of cigarettes and don't even entertain the idea of recreational drugs. I'm an introvert, preferring clam and peaceful nights cuddled with a book rather than at a hyped up party.

And boys, well, I am the police chief's daughter.

Not many boys seem interested.

That doesn't mean I don't think about doing those types of things. I think about going to the parties my father occasionally has to break up. I think about what it would be like to have a boy's hands on my body. I think about drinking until my head feels woozy and I'm given the courage to act like a different me.

I just never act on these thoughts.

So why I suddenly become Edward Cullen's new found interest, I will never know.


	8. You found me

…_you found me…_

"You know where I live?" I ask as he pulls up to my modest two story home.

"We car pooled."

"In fourth grade," I joke.

"Yeah, well, this town isn't exactly huge," he comments, thrumming his long fingers on the steering wheel. I smile and nod. This town isn't big. It's small and tiny and boring. Just like the people.

A cloud of unspoken words and awkward tension settles over us for a moment before I speak.

"Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it," I thank him, gathering my things and rushing out his car. He stays parked outside my home while I fumble with my keys. When I finally get inside my home, I rush to the window.

I catch his silver Volvo speeding away.

**One more chapter for today**


	9. When he's next to me

_...when he's next to me…_

I have barely walked past the cafeteria doors before he is beside me.

"How'd you get to school?" Edward asks, adjusting his backpack on his broad shoulder.

"My father. Did you not notice the obvious police cruiser?"

I don't mean to be so harsh. I just hate attention. My father has a way of attracting it for me. Not to mention that word has spread of Edward's new fascination.

Me.

I have spent the whole morning dodging glares and harsh whispers. I may not have been popular but I was never hated. I was not, nor am I, deserving of anyone's jealousy.

It is unnerving to say the least.

"I didn't have a morning class today. I'm sorry I missed the grand entrance." He smirks. His famous crooked smirk. I blush, hating the pooling of blood that rushes to my cheeks. I walk toward the food line. I am not expecting him to follow, but he does. This makes me nervous.

Suddenly my appetite is gone. I fear he will judge my food choices.

I'm pretty average in weight. I'm pretty average in everything. I don't have muscle tone or shapely curves. It makes me extremely self-conscious to stand next to him.

Edward is on the track team and tends to stay fit all through the year. There is never a time his body is not exercising, and it shows. It shows in his muscled claves, toned arms, and slim waist.

The only exercise I willingly do is the stair climb to my bedroom.

Once we enter the cafeteria line, I am no longer craving the cheesy pizza and fry combo I usually get. Instead I grab a premade sandwich and apple. Edward grabs the same and sends a smile my way.

"I'm not sorry. It was already quite the show," I mumble. He laughs.

"Well, I can pick you up. If you want," he offers, just the hint of a smirk on his lips. I feel the heat under my skin.

"No offense, but I think the police cruiser would draw less attention," I say as we reach the cashier.

He shrugs and hands her a ten dollar bill, paying for both our meals. Before I can refuse or even thank him, he is gone.

He doesn't look my way the rest of lunch.

_**A little longer of a chapter. Last one for today, folks. Don't forget to share you're thoughts**_


	10. And I realize

…_And I realize…_

He finds me at my locker on Friday.

"Get the truck fixed, yet?" he asks, leaning effortlessly against the metal lockers. His eyes capture my own, and I feel like a bird caught by a snake's stare.

Edward reminds me far too much of a snake. His lazy movements and dangerous allure. But like the bird, I am too entranced in his gaze to care about the danger.

"Should be all better by Monday."

"Do you need a ride home?" he asks. His tone is perfectly nonchalant. I'm sure I could tell him to go to hell, and he would only offer a lazy smile before sauntering away. It frustrates me. I want his heart to speed up and his face to warm. I want his words to come out broken and too fast. I want him to feel exactly as I do.

"Sure."

I catch the slighted growth of his eyes. He wasn't expecting me to say yes, but I don't want to fall into his expectations anymore.

Edward Cullen is showing interest in me.

Me.

The mousy police chief's daughter and I want to take advantage of it.


	11. The blame is on me

_...the blame is on me…_

"Do you want to come in?"

I regret the words as soon as they are out my mouth. I cannot invite him in. It is against the rules, and I barely know him.

Yet, I want his answer to be yes.

"Daddy won't mind?" he asks, already shutting off the car.

"Daddy isn't here," I tell him, sliding out the car and closing the door. He follows me, silently hovering as I fetch my keys. I enter my modest home, and he follows suit.

I lead him into the kitchen, dropping my bag on an empty chair.

"Do you want something? Lemonade or —"

"Lemonade's fine," he says. I don't turn around as I fetch the glass. It feels good to be busy and distract myself from the extremely attractive boy in my kitchen. I go into the fridge and pull out the fresh lemonade I made last night.

I make my way to counter and pour a healthy amount into the cup, feeling the condensation immediately form on the outside of the cup.

Edward steps close behind me. I freeze as his chest lightly touches my back, his heat seeping into my shirt and warming my skin. I turn immediately, confused by his sudden intrusion.

He is so close to me. Closer than any boy has been before. I can see the gold flecks around his iris and I'm scared to look anywhere else but his eyes.

His eyelids droop suddenly as he stares at my lips. My heart is beating hard, and I can't hear anything other than the rush of blood that seems to pulse just underneath my ears. I hold my breath, and then I hear it.

Keys turning in the lock of my front door. I snap my head toward the sound, dread setting into my posture. Edward notices my tense shoulders and takes a step back. I expect to see panic on his face too or at least a bit of trepidation in his eyes, but he's as cool as ever.

My father walks into the room, looking distracted.

"Whose car is in the drivew—" his words stop short when he sees us, standing in the kitchen. Words catch in my throat as I try to think up as an explanation.

Calm as ever, Edward takes the lead.

"Hello, Mr. Swan. That's my car. I hope I'm not bothering. Bella invited me in for only a moment. She offered me lemonade," he says, leaning too close to my body and grabbing the cup of lemonade behind me. I give a nervous smile as he pulls away and takes a sip.

"Well, that was mighty nice of you, but I think it's time you leave now," my father says, sounding gruff. Edward nods and hands me the half empty cup.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Bella. Mr. Swan, sir," Edward says with a mock salute, sauntering out the room. I breathe slowly out my mouth.

"Hi, Daddy."

**_I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this. I know we have some mixed feelings about Bella and Edward, but, well, we'll see more of their character as the story progresses. One more chap for today.  
_**-**T**


	12. I guess you didn't care

…_I guess you didn't care…_

"I see you got big red fixed," Edward says, sliding up next to my locker like a key in a lock.

"Yes, I told you she would be," I tell him doing my best to remain stoic. I can already feel my heart beating faster by his presence. My lips have already started to tingle in remembrance of how close he was Friday. I hate myself and my body's reaction. I hate that he can stir me up just by slithering up next to me.

Yet, there he stands, cool and collected. Acting like nothing in the world can bother him. If I reject him, he finds another prettier girl to flatter with his attention. If he rejects me, he makes me question everything about myself, and I hate that he has this affect on me.

I feel ashamed.

"What a shame. I was hoping we could share some more car rides together," he states, and I suppress a shiver, thinking of all the things that could happen in a car.

I slam my locker, perhaps a little harder than I intend, and face him head on. I don't want to play games. I don't want to stay up late at night and wonder where I stand with him and how long I'll be the focus of his flaky attention span. I just want answers.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" I get a bit of joy by the unexpected confusion that colors his face.

"I mean why? What do you want from me?" Because something tells me that Edward Cullen doesn't just want to get to know me. What he does want, what he might want scares me because if he gets to close—if I get to close—he might just get it.

"I don't want anything. I'm just being friendly," he states, a crooked grin on his face. I snort in disbelief.

"Friendly. Right. So you want to be friends?" I ask, feeling just a tinge of disappointment.

"Why do we have to label anything? Who knows what we are. We're just Edward and Bella," he states, stepping a little closer. We're attracting attention and whispers. I stare at his green eyes, trapped in the predators gaze once more and hating myself for it.

I should leave. Get away before he strikes and wraps me in the trouble that he is.

But like the prey I am, I can't help but accept my fate.

_**Last of the day/night folks. See you tomorrow. : )**_


	13. From whispers on the street

…_from whispers on the street…_

"What is going on with you and Edward?" Angela asks, placing her tray down on the table and taking a bite of her carrot stick. I shrug my shoulders and sigh.

"Nothing is going on. He gave me a few rides home after my truck started acting up. But now it's fixed, and it's over," I say, knowing the words are lies. Edward is not done with me. I can feel his stare burning the back of my neck.

"So done that he's practically making love to you with his eyes," she giggles, and I roll my eyes. I'm sure Edward has done plenty of things with girls. I doubt making love has made his list.

"Stop. Edward looks at every girl like that," I mumble, finishing off the last of my fries.

"He's never looked at me like that. I think I'd pull him into the bathroom and have my wicked way with him if he did," she says.

I mock gasp.

"You're the reverend's daughter! How scandalous," I joke. She laughs and pushes my shoulders. The movement somehow causes me to rock the lunch table. My water bottle topples over and begins to drip on my jeans. Angela quickly picks it up before it can cause anymore damage.

"Oh shit," I squeak, standing suddenly and placing napkins on the wet fabric. It's completely uncomfortable.

"Shoot. I'm sorry. Go to the washroom and use the hand dryer. It'll help," Angela suggests. I nod and walk out the caf.

Once I reach the bathroom I'm alone for all of three seconds before a group of girls join in. I know them immediately. They're popular and beautiful. The kind of girls who have never had to want for anything. Teachers adore them, and most of the student body knows their names.

"It's Bella, right?" the tallest one speaks. Kate.

Her golden blonde hair is wrapped up in a high pony tail, with loose tendrils falling down and framing her high cheekbones. I nod, staring wide eyed at the trio.

"Are you dating Edward?" Jane asks next. She's the shortest of the group, with round cheeks and dark hair. Freckles are dotted along her button nose and under her wide brown eyes. She looks youthful and vibrant and doesn't try to taint it with layers of makeup.

"No. We're just friends," I said, walking away from the hand dryer and hoping to get out of this uncomfortable situation.

"Right. Edward doesn't do labels," the third one says, walking to the sinks and staring at her reflection in the mirror. She's perhaps the prettiest of the girls. Her hair is perfectly curled and unlike most girls she focuses on perfecting her natural curls rather than heating them straight.

Her name is Tanya and standing next to her makes me feel insecure and little.

"Edward and I are just friends. Nothing more," I say, feeling a little angry that she knows that fact about him. That at some point she had the very same conversation I had with him.

"It's okay Bella. I mean, we've all had our piece of Edward. It's almost like a club initiation," she says and the other girls giggle. I find nothing funny about it. I think it's disgusting.

I nod and walk out the washroom, leaving their teasing laughter in my wake.

**_One of two updates today guys. Sorry it took so long to get out. Sometimes life keeps me from being on time. _**


	14. (you found me)

…_you found me…_

It is almost two weeks later when he approaches me again.

"Bella!" he calls, running down the hallway Friday afternoon. His shoes matching the steady pound of my heart. His excitement wraps around my waist and holds me in place.

I turn, waiting for him to approach me in the nearly empty hallway. I'm grateful that there are fewer witnesses to this interaction.

"I'm glad I caught you," he says, a charming grin spreading across his face like molasses. Slow and sweet.

"Is there a reason?" I ask, playing with the strap of my backpack.

"You doing anything tonight?" I want to say yes. I wish I had a busier social life, but other than a night on the couch watching wedding shows, I do not have anything planned.

"No. Why?"

"I'm throwing a party. You should come. I hope to see you," he says.

"Okay," I agree without thought. I almost regret agreeing so easily until I'm once again rewarded with his slow smiles.

I start to wonder if there is anything I wouldn't do to be at the receiving end of one of his smiles.


	15. Trouble

_…__trouble…_

"Gosh, this is so exciting," Angela says, practically vibrating in her seat. I shake my head as I try to figure out the darkened road that leads to the Cullen home. It's just outside Forks, hidden well among trees and shrubbery.

"It's just a party," I mumble, but the excitement is hidden deep within my belly.

"It's a Cullen party. They're like legendary parties. I can't believe I've finally got invited," Angela squeals. I shrug as I find the turn off and pull into a large driveway. There are already tons of cars parked in strange awkward angles. I park so that I won't be boxed in and turn off the truck. Angela is out of her seat and halfway toward the house before I can even take off my seat belt. I sigh and follow after her.

Entering the doors is exactly as I imagined one of these parties to be. The music is loud and booming, shaking the walls with each beat. People are everywhere. Standing in large clumps against the walls. Attempting to dance. Lounging on sofas and tables, any flat surface they can find.

Most of the occupants are nursing red solo cups, which I can only imagine contains alcohol. Most sit around talking and drinking. I feel out of place as soon as I step in. I know almost everyone here, but I don't talk to them. I've never got along with any of them before.

I am Alice in the garden, waiting for them to realize I am a weed. I pick at my cardigan as I make my way past the living room, where most the party goers are situated.

I try to find Angela who has disappeared in the sea of bodies. I make my way to the kitchen. A few people sit at the island counter top. They nod when I walk in, and I offer one of my own. I don't know what to do with myself until I feel a hand on my arm.

"Bella, you came," a familiar voice says, and I spin, chest to chest with Edward Cullen. My words are stolen by his sudden appearance and proximity. He smells of soap and boy, and I find myself wanting to lean in.

He looks good. He always does. His hair is the usual mess of copper strands, and his green eyes blaze into my own.

"I'm glad you're here. Do you want something to drink?" he asks, being the ever gracious host.

"Pop is fine," I mumble. He nods and goes to the fridge. He pulls out a can of coke and hands it to me. I hold it in my hand, but don't open it.

"Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?" he asks and I shrug. I would feel better leaving behind the booming music and large crowd. However, I'm not sure being alone with him is the better option.

He takes my hand in his own, and it is warm and rough. I want him to never let go as he leads me through the mob of high schoolers. When we reach the stairs, I immediately feel the warning bells go off in my head. Loud alarms that blaze red stop me in my tracks. My hand slips easily from his.

He turns at my sudden hesitation.

"You comin'?" he asks, his smile lazy and carefree. I smile back because I am a teenager. I am young and reckless and this moment is mine to own.

I offer him my hand and follow him up the stairs.

_**What will become of our Bella?  
**_**_ps. I hope the chapter titles aren't lost on anyone? I'm just assuming people have figured out where they are coming from..._**


	16. (Trouble)

…_trouble…_

He leads me to his bedroom which is actually on the third floor. I can barely hear the party below us.

His room is spacious and open. A king size bed rests against the corner, fitted black sheets and two perfectly placed pillows. It looks inviting and forbidden, and I wonder if I should really be up here.

"Wow. For a teenage boy you're pretty clean," I comment, walking toward his desk and placing down my unopened coke can. It's true. There isn't a stray sock or notebook out of place. Everything has a home, from his spiral CD organizer to the rows of books along his wall.

"It's one of my fatal flaws. I'm a bit of a neat freak. So use a coaster," he says a smile in his voice.

"Seriously?" I lift my coke can off his desk, but he shakes his head, and I place it back down.

"I'm kidding. Maria cleans for us every Thursday. She keeps my room tidy. But I'm a clean person by nature. I like things organized," he says.

"I notice." I scan his bookshelf. I pull one out and grin wolfishly.

"Is this not a bit girly to have on your bookshelf?" I ask, holding a familiar teal book in my hand. My own copy is worn, and the edges are bent, and the pages are stained with fingerprints and tears. His copy looks brand new.

He blushes when he registers what I'm holding.

"It was a gift."

"I cried throughout the entire book. Even the happy parts," I say without thought. It's one of my favorite novels, and I'm surprised to find it on his shelf. I like to know I have at least one thing in common with Edward Cullen. Most times I feel we belong on two completely different planets. I flip through it quickly, stopping at my favorite passages and rereading my favorite quotes.

"It was alright. I enjoy his writing. Very metaphorical," Edward comments with a shrug.

"It was just alright? I'm practically in love with this book," I say, closing it and holding it close to my chest as though I can absorb it straight into my heart.

"I didn't find it that sad. The characters were a bit pretentious and hard to like."

Anger licks my neck, quick and hot. I immediately want to debate with him and defend the characters that had pulled on my heart strings.

I hold back, swallowing the words that are eager on my tongue.

I'm sure he isn't use to having debates over books. I'm sure he doesn't want to see my bookworm ways. I don't want him to regret bringing me up here.

I put the book back and take out the other by the same author.

"And this one?"

"The main character was really pathetic. It was hard to feel anything for him. It was generally hard to read."

I stare at him in disbelief.

"I found his passion brave. He wasn't afraid to love, even if she didn't love him back," I say, flipping through the book like I had the last one.

"It was stupid. He mopes over this girl like she's the only one that exists. Sure, she was cool, but nothing special. Nothing to obsessive over," Edward snaps back, and in that moment I see it. The flash of heat behind his eyes that tells me this book and these characters wormed their way into his heart and soul. His passion and quick temper shows me we're more alike than I first thought. But perhaps I should have paid more attention to his words.

"I guess we'll agree to disagree," I joke, deciding to let it go. I know that if it were anyone else, I would spend hours talking of these books. He chuckles and shrugs. I return the book into its rightful place.

I move on to his music collection. I don't recognize much of it. Most are indie rock bands that you usually find adorning the walls of Hot Topic.

I like a wide range of music, but I generally tend to listen to more contemporary music.

I pull out a CD from a band I'm slightly familiar with.

"I went to see them live in Seattle. It was amazing," he comments when he sees the album. I tuck it back in.

"I only know one song. I don't listen to them much," I say.

"I bet you listen to people like Katy Perry and Taylor Swift," he teases, but I can hear the disdain he has for artists in his voice. I shrug. I try not to think about all the songs I have from both those artists tucked into my iPod.

"Sometimes. I listen to a lot of things. I'm always open to new music, if you're willing to share," I say and turn toward him. He smiles, and then he walks toward me so that he is right in front of me.

The tension grows ten fold, settling over the room like a fog. I can feel it, heavy on my shoulders.

"Can I kiss you, Bella?" he asks, and his voice is smooth and strong with confidence. He doesn't expect me to say no, but he's giving me the choice. My heart pounds loudly, and I stare into his summertime eyes.

Oh, boy.

_**I listen to the indie rock bands that adorn Hot Topic. I also listen to tons of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. I am not trying to knock any music genres. **_  
**_PS. Can anyone figure out the books they were talking about?  
(One more update today)_**


	17. -trouble-

_…trouble…_

Oh, how badly I want to kiss this boy. I want to share my first kiss with him. The desire makes its way into my skin, making me step forward into his heat, into his scent.

My hands tingle with nervous. I tilt my head up just a bit, unsure how to give him permission, but he reads it easily.

A calloused hand grasps my chin, positioning it to his liking. I barely have time to register what is happening before his mouth descends.

His mouth is hot and heavy against mine and it is unlike anything I have ever felt before. He moves his lips slowly and mine follow. I let him guide me, but soon my brain is in overdrive.

I wonder how long this will last. I wonder if I am a bad kisser. Can he tell this is my first kiss? Does he care? Where do I put my hands? When do I breathe?

And suddenly I am light headed. I pull away gasping for air and panting from a simple kiss. It doesn't look like it has affected him nearly as much. He stares at me with his lazy carefree grin. I give him one of my own, giggling nervously.

His hand widens, holding my jaw line gently in his palm.

"Just relax," he whispers, leaning down and capturing my mouth in his. I do relax. I let myself just feel.

I feel his hand, warm on the sliver of skin that is bare between my shirt and jeans. I feel his thumb gently rub my cheek. I feel the heat of his lips on my mouth, such a foreign but pleasurable feeling. I love the way his mouth moves against mine. My hands grip his arms. I want to hold him to me forever. I don't want him to back away.

He groans against my mouth and the sound does something strange. It lights a fire in the pit of my belly and makes my skin heat. I get this thought in my head then, how I wish this moment will never end.

I think how nothing will ever feel this good for as long as I live.

I will never have another Edward Cullen, and I think it was then that I allowed myself to fall.

Because he's the kind of guy that only comes around once.

Why not enjoy the ride?

**_Wow guys. Your guesses were spot on. The first (teal) book is The Fault in Our Stars. The second was Looking for Alaska, both by John Green. _**

**_The album that I imagined Bella pulling out was Foil by Blue October (technically they're alternative rock, but we should just forgive Bella for not knowing). I have been to see Blue October live. It was a beautiful concert. I imagined Edward went to a similar one. :)  
Thanks for the reviews guys. I love them. _**


	18. All I'll ever be

_…__all I'll ever be…_

After the party, Edward and I become, well, I'm not exactly sure what Edward and I become.

Edward doesn't do labels so there was nothing to call us.

He's much the same and completely different. He still unexpectedly pops up when I least expect him, but he's more affectionate. He plays with my hair as he leans over me to tell me something he could have shouted across the hall. He ignores me at lunch time, talking with his friends and laughing with the pretty girls around him, but occasionally catching me in line and paying for my food. He'll walk me to one class to ignore me in the class that we share. It makes my head spin, and my thoughts never stray far from him. It's exhausting and exhilarating.

If there is one thing Edward Cullen knows how to do, it's play the game.

"Do you want to come over today?" he asks one Thursday afternoon. My father disapproves of going out on school nights, but I find it's hard to deny him anything.

"Okay." The grin he gives me is rewarding enough. I worry for myself. I can't be falling for a boy this quickly.

Maybe if the boy was like Jared Embers, who is wholesome and sweet, I wouldn't be worried. Jared would take care of my heart.

But Edward, Edward is a different story. He might act like he cares, but I know that he doesn't. He doesn't really regard any of the feelings of the girls he's with.

But this isn't supposed to be serious. It's fun. I'm allowing myself to have fun with a boy that's no good for me. You don't do long term with boys like Edward. You don't get attached.

But I find that even thinking about a day where he'll no longer be part of my life hurts me greatly. It sort of shakes my chest and makes a sting of loneliness fall into my bones.

"I'll pick you up," he says.

"No!" I don't mean to shout, but the panic rises too quickly to be stifled. My father will be home. "I'll drive over."

Edward looks at me a bit strangely for a moment before nodding and walking off.

**_So technically this update wasn't supposed to come until 2pm central time, but I brought my laptop to work and thought...why the hell not update.  
Share your thoughts.  
-T _**


	19. When I fell hard

_…__when I fell hard…_

I told myself I wouldn't allow him to lead me into his lair. It was too dangerous.

But there I am, atop his dark silk sheets, his mouth doing amazing things to my skin. An unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, heat spreads through my body as he nips at the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

I gasp, curling my fingers in his soft hair. I can feel him grin. He raises his head and captures my lips in another one of his heated kisses. I lose myself in the sensation, almost forgetting where his hands are traveling. They graze my breast, barely touching, pulling an embarrassing sound from my mouth. His hands lower, tracing the skin above my jeans where my shirt has pulled up. I can feel my stomach contract.

I break the kiss, but it doesn't deter him. He sends a million tiny kisses down my jaw and toward my ear.

His hand still tracing the sliver of skin, asking for permission, but I can't grant it to him.

"Mmm, stop," I mumble, pushing at him lightly. He gets the message, stopping his actions and lifting his body so that he is suspended above me.

"Are you alright?" he asks, slightly breathless. His lips are swollen, and his eyes are clouded over. It takes everything in me not to pull him back down.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, but I should probably get going soon," I say, looking anywhere but at him. This leads me to pay more attention to his ceiling, and I see the clear plastic stickers that adorn it.

Something about the placement of the star stickers lead me to believe that it wasn't just a random action done by a small childlike Edward.

"Are those constellations?" I ask, my breathing returning to normal.

He blushes slightly, but gets up and switches off the light. Darkness sweeps over the bedroom immediately, and the stickers come to life. They're beautiful.

I feel him lay against me, his shoulder touching mine.

"Yeah. That's the big dipper, obviously. And Leo and over there is Ursa Major. Um…in the corner is Virgo," he whispers, pointing out the grouping of stars. He continues to talk about what constellations contain which stars and what time of year they're visible.

I listen quietly, asking a question if he gets a little overwhelming, but otherwise staying silent.

Edward Cullen is such a personality: strong, cocky and confident; it's hard to imagine he's a person too. He cares about things and has passions in things only few do.

"How'd you get into the stars?" I ask, because he isn't supposed to be into things like this. He isn't supposed to be this adorable.

"My dad and I use to go camping when I was younger, when he had time for me. He would teach me about all the stars. I just grew to love them," he says and I offer a sad smile. Edward's parents are rarely around. I never knew it bothered him until this moment. The sadness sits slumped on every word he speaks.

I turn and rise on my elbow. I can't see him too well, but I can make out the shadow of his long straight nose and strong jaw line. He leans over and turns on the bedside lamp.

He is illuminated, but barely. The lamp casts a yellow shadow on everything near it.

I smile and trace his strong jaw line, starting at the strong curve under his ear and moving toward his chin. His eyes meet mine, and we simply stare at one another.

"Your eyes change color," he tells me in a whisper. I giggle and slump down on his pillow. He turns, tucking his hands under his cheek, and we mirror one another.

"No they don't. They're brown, always," I say.

"No. They're not. Sometimes they're so dark, they look like coal. But right now, they look like honey," he says, and I feel the blush heating my cheeks. No one has ever bothered to pay attention to my eye color. Brown eyes get dismissed so easily.

We stare. We don't speak.

He moves, hovering his body over mine. I shift so that I am lying on my back and staring up at him.

He is careful not to touch me, staring at my eyes and then my lips.

"I thought you had to go?" he whispers.

I should go. I should pack my things and head home, but, at that moment, I don't even think it's an option. There is no way I can leave him, now. Not when he is looking at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted.

I know it's dangerous to hope I'll be different, but I do.

"I can spare a few minutes," I breathe, watching him come close. He slowly lowers but stops. I can feel his lips just a hair away from mine. He waits. I pull back as much as I can, sinking into his pillow to catch his eyes.

"When you're angry, you're eyes turn a murky green. But right now, they look like a lake," I tell him. In the butter like light of his lamp, his eyes sparkle with flecks of green, gold, and brown.

Then before he can respond to my words, and before I can lose my nerve, I rise up and kiss him.

_**This happens to be one of my favorite chapters. I hope you guys like. Last one of the day.  
Share your thoughts.  
-T**_


	20. Pretends he doesn't know

_…pretends he doesn't know…_

"_Silencio clase, silencio_," Alec Cozzi mocks as we leave our Spanish class. I try to hide the laughter that is quickly bubbling out. He does the perfect imitation of our teacher's high pitch haughty voice, and it sends me into fits.

"Stop, she's going to hear you," I jokingly admonish, shoving his arm playfully. I don't mean anything by it, but the cheeky smile on Alec's face tells me he does.

"Nah, she's too busy looking for her next soul to steal," he whispers, and I chance a look back. The teacher's beady eyes are suspiciously watching each student as they make their way out the class. I laugh again.

Alec is all charming boy, with sparking baby blues and a sweet disposition.

He walks me to my locker. He usually does, before heading off with a simple goodbye. But today he doesn't walk away. He leans against the adjourning locker as I put in my combination.

"So, I was just wondering if, um, maybe you wanted to hang out this weekend. Maybe we can catch a movie or head to the diner. My treat," he says. I stop fidgeting with my stubborn lock and meet his innocent eyes.

He looks hopeful as he runs his hand through his dark chocolate brown locks.

I stare at him wide eyed.

Everything tells me that Alec Cozzi is exactly the type of boy I need in my life. He is the sensible, responsible choice. He won't make me question where I stand with him. He won't play games. He won't drive me crazy. He is safe.

He is everything Edward Cullen isn't.

I want to say yes to this boy. I want to know that my heart is safe in his hands.

But the only reason it would be safe, is because I would never feel.

Edward is quicksand and the longer I am with him, the harder it is to pull away.

Edward saddles up next to me at that moment. Both Alec and I turn to look at him. He says nothing. He wraps an arm around my waist and kisses just below my jaw. The heat rushes under my skin in an instant.

"Hey," he finally greets, but I catch his eyes slide over to my Spanish partner. Alec looks anywhere but at me.

"Get back to me," Alec finally says, but the defeat is evident in his voice as he rushes off. I am both angered and thrilled at Edward's possessive actions.

Angered because he is the one reluctant to label, but quick to ward off any advances. Thrilled because I finally see that Edward Cullen cares more than he lets on.

He leans against the locker Alec just vacated. He looks so comfortable there, as though the metals were carved perfectly for his wide shoulders. I roll my eyes and turn back to my lock.

"What?" he asks, all innocent eyes and perfectly placed surprise. I do my best to hide my smirk.

**_So sorry I didn't get to post yesterday, guys. It was just a really busy day. But I'm back, so share you're thoughts.  
-T_**


	21. The saddest fear

_…__the saddest fear…_

"How do you even get a scar here?" Edward asks one lazy Sunday afternoon as he plays with my fingers. We are sitting in his basement on a beat up couch. I am resting between his legs, my back to his chest, and my head on his shoulders.

"When I was like four or five, I stuck my finger in a soda can, and when my mom yelled at me I pulled it out too fast. I had to get six stitches. She was so mad," I say, explaining the scar that runs down the inside of my pointer finger. He laughs at me, and the sound is throaty and sultry. Instead of commenting on my stupidity, he simply places a kisses near the scar and absent mindedly continues to move my fingers.

He feels warm and comforting, and it frightens me just how relaxed I am with him. Sometimes it's so easy being with Edward. In the moments like this, there is no anxiety or pressure. We just enjoy one another's company.

"Where…I mean…you're mom…" he doesn't get the question out, but I know what he means. My mother has always been a taboo topic in this town. I shrug.

"She left. Found someone, something, better to waste away with," I say, because the topic is still bitter for me.

"Do you ever see her?" he asks. I rest on his shoulder.

"I went to visit her the summer after she left. I was about 10, I guess. Anyway, it was too weird. We had nothing to say to each other, and I just didn't really want to be around her," I tell him. "She emails me every so often, and mails me gifts for the holidays. I'm just not sure I'll be able to forgive her for leaving."

Edward wraps his arms around me.

"I'm sorry, but at least she's trying to reach out," he whispers.

"She shouldn't have left," I bite out, the resentment seeping into my words.

"Bella, my parents are still technically together, but absolutely miserable. It's why they're gone all the time. They avoid one another in order to make their problems work. At least your parents could admit it wasn't working. You should talk to her. Your mom, I mean," he tells me, and I let the words sit in the room for a moment before absorbing them.

We've never bothered to share so much with one another. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it.

"I'll talk to my mom when you talk to your folks," I say, turning my head to see his face. He rolls his eyes, but I catch the smile playing on his lips. I can't help but place a kiss on his jaw.

"Yo, Ed, you down here?" a voice calls from above, and just like that our moment is over.

_**Thanks so much for taking the time to review guys. One more chapter for today. **_


	22. You were trouble

_…__you were trouble…_

Seth Clearwater makes his way down the wooden stairs, his steps echoing behind him. Edward sits up, and I uncomfortably shift around. Our intimate embrace morphs into a platonic one. Seth reaches the basement, and his eyes widen slightly when he spots me. When his gaze meets Edward's, he offers a mischievous grin that makes me feel like the butt of an awful joke.

"You find him?" Another voice calls from above. The voice doesn't give Seth a chance to answer, and suddenly Jasper Whitlock is charging down the stairs.

He stops behind Seth. His eyes flicker from Edward to me and back again before a knowing grin appears on his face.

"Guess this is a bad time, huh?" Seth asks, rubbing the bottom of his jaw with the back of his hand.

"Nah man, Bella's chill?" Edward says, and I feel a little better. I offer a smile at the boys I've been familiar with my whole life. I've never been friendly with them, as we have always run in different circles, but I've grown up with them.

My painful shyness is, unfortunately, present as always. It steals the words from my mouth and pricks my back. I can feel it heavy on my shoulders as I curl on the sofa and try to be as small as possible.

"Cool, cool. You wanna light up?" Seth asks. Edward shrugs noncommittally. Jasper walks around him and takes a seat on the bean bag by the loveseat Edward and I are currently occupying. Seth takes a seat on the floor next to Jasper and pulls out a small baggie from his back pocket.

I realize what they're up to.

I rub my hands down my shins. My anxiety grows tenfold.

"I should go," I whisper so only Edward can hear me. Seth and Jasper are already distracted, rolling up a joint.

"No, stay," Edward says, his breath fanning across my ear and down my neck. I shiver. I don't want to be around when they get high, but I want to stay for him. I ignore my better judgment and relax back into the couch.

Edward's attention returns to his friends, laughing and poking jokes at them. Seth and Edward seem to give Jasper a hard time about a girl he hasn't had the nerve to talk to. I hold back my comments, but I think Jasper's shy nature is sweet and alluring.

"Yeah, well, we don't all share your philosophy on girls," Jasper suddenly snaps at Edward. Seth snorts a laugh, and Edward rolls his eyes.

"Man, shut the fuck up," Edward says before his gaze slides over to me. I offer a smile to show him I understand his friends are joking. He smiles back before joining the conversation once more.

The comment sticks with me, though. I begin to wonder exactly what Edward's philosophy on girls is. Am I part of a cookie cutter line of relationships or do I mean something?

"Wanna hit?" Edward asks. His voice brings me out of my thoughts and plops me back into the basement couch. I look to see him holding up the joint. There is already a thick white smoke filling up the room and a strong bitter stench.

"I've never…um…" I don't know how to tell him that I'm not interested in it without sounding like I'm afraid of it.

"Try it," Edward persists, wagging it in front of me. I take it from his fingers, hesitant to actually smoke it. But the smoke filled room and his friend's hazy eyed stares finally get to me.

I take a pull and feel the smoke immediately fill up my throat and lungs.

I pass it back and cough violently. The smoke tickles the back of my throat, bringing forth tears in my eyes. I can hear the others laugh, and I regret smoking it.

Edward rubs my back, chuckling softly.

"Softer pulls," he whispers, handing it back when I have calmed down. I nod my understanding, letting a few more coughs find their escape from my chest.

I take another, shorter, pull and blow out the smoke softly. He laughs, and takes his own pull before passing it.

There is a nasty taste in mouth, sour and rancid. When the joint makes it way to me again, I reject it. I am already dizzy and nauseous. Eventually music gets turned on, and I relax back into the couch, falling in and out of sleep.

Guilt sits heavy in my stomach, knowing my father would be so disappointed in me. The thought doesn't sit well with me, until Edward leans back on the couch and offers me a Cheshire like grin that makes me forget everything.

It's then I know I am far too deep in Wonderland for my own good. The day will come when Edward disappears, and I will be left with nothing but his haunting smile.


	23. you took a step back

…_you took a step back…_

"How was the rest of your Sunday?" Edward asks Monday morning. I shrug, pulling out my books from locker.

The truth was I spent the rest of the day with a nasty headache, avoiding questions from my father. The smell lingered all around me, and though I showered and changed, I could still smell faint hints. Every time I caught a whiff, I was nauseated. I do not, however, want Edward to know that.

"It was alright. Yours?" I inquire, wondering what happened after I left.

"Fine," he says briskly, his eyes searching the halls. I close my locker and give him my full attention. At that moment, he seems to find the person he's looking for. "Hey Mags, wait up!"

A red headed girl stops in her tracks and turns at the sound of his voice.

"I'll catch you later, Bella," he says before heading off to catch up with the girl. I hear him ask about his biology class before his voice is swallowed by the morning rumble of students.

I sigh and head to first period alone.

**_Quick note: I know it can be frustrating to watch Bella being so submissive(it's hard to write), but she will have her moment, I promise. In the meantime, keep in mind she is in high school. High school is all about insecurities and second guessing._**

**_One more update today.  
Thanks for loving this story guys. It means a lot. _**

**_-T_**


	24. I'd never been

…_I'd never been…_

"Can we change this shit, please," he begs for the fifth time, throwing himself back on the couch. I roll my eyes. Last weekend I suffered through two Die Hard movies with him. He can suffer another fifteen minutes of my Honey Boo Boo obsession.

"Shut up. It's funny," I say as it rolls into a commercial.

"They're disgusting and stupid," he comments, playing with my fingers. It's a habit he seems to do without realizing.

"They know who they are and apologize to no one. Besides my TV, my choice," I retort back, and he laughs. He leans in to kiss my neck, and I hold back a moan. I tilt my head to give him better access which he accepts greedily.

"I can think of better things to do," he whispers in my ear before taking my earlobe into his mouth. His teeth scrape my skin, shooting arrows of pleasure down my finger tips. I squirm.

He kisses my mouth and rearranges us so that I'm lying beneath him, his body hovering over mine. It doesn't escape my notice that he's managed to steal the remote and shut off the television. He tosses it somewhere on the floor before giving me his full attention.

His heat seeps into my skin, warming my belly and making my head swim. He fidgets, and I can feel the curves and ridges of his body. It's an addictive kind of power that sweeps over me when I realize I can make him this excited.

His kisses are persistent and passionate, and I find myself breathless in moments.

His hands roam up my stomach and toward my breast. I arch my back, desperately craving the warmth in his touch. He moves his lips down my jaw, and I try to control my erratic breathing. He shifts his hips, rubbing against mine, and I moan.

My body is hypersensitive to his touch. Everything he does is making me feel.

I want to be closer.

I want to push him away.

His hands explore my skin, traveling lower and lower and lower.

"Bella, please," he pleads, his breath caressing my ear and drifting over my skin. How do I tell this boy no? Do I even want to?

And then I realize that: no, I don't want to tell him no. I want him. I pull his mouth down to mine, kissing him roughly. He takes it as the yes that it is.

The sensation is almost too much, tightening my muscles and causing my mind to blank. This is unlike anything I've ever felt before. I'm spiraling and trying to hold on. Crescent shaped indents are left in his neck and his arm. His kisses travel down my neck and back up toward my jaw. I can't concentrate enough to kiss him back. I can only pant into his neck and hope my breathing isn't as loud as it sounds.

He's bringing me higher and higher, and I'm holding on too tightly, afraid of what awaits me at the bottom.

"Let go, Bella," he whispers, and his voices travels down my skin like warm honey.

And I fall.


	25. You're drowning

_…__you're drowning…_

"There you are; I've been looking for you," Angela says, approaching me in the school library Wednesday afternoon. She takes a seat next to me, pulling out her bagged lunch. I don't look away from the paper I'm typing as I greet her. "So, I was wondering, do you wanna come over tonight?"

I look away from my screen. "I can't. I'm so behind on homework it's ridiculous."

"What? Bella Swan doesn't get behind," she comments, taking a bite of her sandwich. Someone shushes her from behind the book stacks. She raises a middle finger in the direction of the voice, though I doubt they can see her. I giggle at her antics.

"Well, I've been hanging with Edward on the weekends," I tell her. I've also been hanging out with him on weekdays too, but I leave that part out.

"You and Edward seem to be getting close," Angela says, raising a brow. I return back to my paper, but feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I can't help of think just how close we got last time we were together. I remember him hovering above my half naked body, the setting sun slowly seeping out of his room.

"We're, um, yeah," I mumble, trying to bring my focus back on the paper.

"Well, do you wanna hang this weekend then?" she asks, and I feel guilty having to deny her a second time.

"I can't. I have plans with Edward," I tell her, and she rolls her eyes.

"So cancel. We can have a girls day."

"I can't," I mumble, unsure how to tell her that it isn't that simple. How do I tell her I fear one canceled weekend can lead to all future weekends being canceled? I can't, because I know how stupid and pathetic it sounds, and I don't need my best friend to confirm my fears.

"I would cancel on Ben for you," she reminds me.

"Yeah, but it wasn't exactly like you and Ben we're going public," I snap and wish I hadn't. Ben is still a sore spot for Angela, having been her first relationship. It had turned out that Ben had been solely using Angela to get his too strict parents off his back and to get over his ex.

"Well, at least Ben and I had a relationship. I wasn't stuck in some weird limbo," she snaps back.

I turn toward her.

"You don't know anything about my relationship with Edward!"

"I know that you don't actually have one! Edward doesn't do relationships, Bella. He's playing you, and you're all too willing to be a pawn in his game." Her words feel like a hard slap against my cheek.

"You're just jealous I'm not stuck at home every weekend like you," I hiss, and the words rid me of my anger in an instant. I want to pull them back and tuck them away, but they've already escaped. Angela doesn't say anything. She begins to pack her lunch in the tense silence that follows my lash out. When she gets up, I find my voice. "Wait, Ang. I'm sorry."

"No, if that's how you really feel, fine." She pushes in her chair and begins to walk way.

"Ang!" I call, hoping there's a way to fix this. She turns back.

"You know what, Bella, you're wrong. I'm not jealous. Because all that's waiting for you when this is over is heartbreak. Who would envy that?" And with that she storms out the library.

I drop my head in my hands and wonder how I've made such a mess of things.


	26. He's the reason why

_…__he's the reason why…_

I am trying my hardest not to fall asleep on his warm chest. I can feel his heart pound heavily under his skin, excited from our previous activities. His fingers tickle my bare shoulder, and I can feel his breath on my naked back.

It's weird for me to be so intimate with a boy. I've gone further with Edward than I thought I ever would, but I've yet to take the biggest step.

The fact that I can barely think the words shows me I am anything but ready. He never pushes, but I know he wants to move further. I can feel it in his reluctance to stop and his over eager kisses. I feel the desire when his hands caress my thighs and see the longing in his emerald eyes.

His experience worries me, and I'm afraid of what will be left of my heart if I go into that territory.

"How many girls have you been with?" I ask, dreading the answer like a root canal.

"Hmm?" he asks.

"How many girls have you been with?" I feel like Baby asking Johnny if he's had many women. I wonder if Edward will give me a long drawn out excuse telling me that girls use him, not the other way around. I almost hope he will.

"What, you mean, like sex?" he asks, and I nod against his chest.

"Three," he says so casually you would have thought I asked how old he was.

The number is shocking. Edward has always been a hot topic in the halls. His name attached to every scandalous rumor that made its way through hushed whispers and suppressed giggles. I still find the number high for a high school boy (call me old fashioned), but it's less than I expected.

"Really?" I ask, tracing my own circles on his skin. I refuse to meet his eyes. He laughs.

"Did you expect more or less?"

"More, I guess."

"Well, I mean, I've messed around with a few girls, but actual sex is a much smaller number," he says, chuckling softly. It's quiet for a beat before he speaks again. "I was on vacation. We take one every year during the summer. I think it's my parents' way of convincing themselves we're still a family. Anyway, we were staying in this little resort in Puerto Rico. I met a girl, and things got serious pretty fast. We spent the whole summer together."

"How old were you?" I ask. I don't want to be jealous of this past girl, but I am.

"I was 16. Just turned actually. Near the end of summer we got into a really nasty fight. I found her kissing her ex, and I retaliated," he says.

"How?"

"I was really angry at her, so much so, I might have slept with her best friend," he admits, and I can hear the regret and embarrassment in his voice.

I rise up on my elbows to look at him. I'm shocked that he would stoop so low. My face must give it away because he brings his hand to cover his face.

"That's…" I don't even have words. I start to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He playfully pinches me.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If I could change it I would. I felt so bad about it; I didn't have sex again until the next summer," he explains, dropping his hand.

"Another cabana girl?" I joke. He smirks.

"I have a thing for summer romances."

"And me?"

"Well, you, Bella Swan, seem to be breaking all my rules," he whispers before rolling us over. I grasp his face in my hands and stare into his eyes.

As I bring his mouth down toward mine, I pray his words are true.

**_In case anyone is _****_unfamiliar: Johnny and Baby are characters from the film _Dirty Dancing.**

**_Thanks for the reviews guys._**


	27. Till you put me down

_…__till you put me down…_

"Skinny Love by Birdy," I answer as soon as the familiar chords play through my ears.

He laughs and gives me thumbs up. I let haunting voice echo throughout my ears for a moment before I search through his iPod.

We're lying on his bed, shoulders touching as we shift through one another's music players. It started as a way to just listen to music and became sort of a game.

We're only given a minute to guess the song that's been played for us. It works well, although sharing my iPod with Edward seems like an invasion of privacy. I like the music I listen to, but I'm worried about what he will think. Most of the songs are contemporary soft pieces, and yes, I have Taylor Swift and Katy Perry littering the selections.

Edward's taste in music is different to say the least. I haven't heard most of the bands in his iPod, and if I have I heard of them I only recognize a few of their songs.

I smile when I come across the song I want to play. He laughs when it begins to play through his ear buds.

"Skinny Love by Bon Iver. Obviously the better choice," he says, and I roll my eyes.

"Just because it's the original doesn't mean it is better," I argue.

"Not always, but in this case it does," he says.

"Birdy's version is beautiful. She's got a lovely voice. It brings a whole new connotation to the song."

"I disagree. I think she loses some of the emotional appeal. Bon Iver's version is gritty and raw and she makes it _pretty_," he says with a face as though it's a bad thing.

"Well, I guess we agree to disagree," I snip.

"You've got some shitty taste in music, no offense," he says with a small chuckle, tossing back my iPod. I try not to let his words bother me. I shouldn't have to defend my taste in music. I shouldn't have to explain that a song has to make me feel something to be placed in my iPod. But I want too. I want to tell him that all these songs have touched me in a way that makes it hurt when he criticizes them.

"Well, sorry I'm not as educated as you are." I try to keep the venom out of my voice as I place his iPod on his stomach. "Green Day and Lincoln Park just don't speak to me."

"Well, guess I'll just have to fix that."

And though I know it's slim we'll ever come to an agreement on music, I'm all too eager to accept his offer. I want to connect to him. I want to have things in common.

I don't, however, want to lose myself.

**_Again, the musical opinions of Edward and Bella belong to Edward and Bella.  
But I have both Bon Iver's and Birdy's version of Skinny Love on my iPod. I enjoy both, but if I had to pick I would go with Birdy.  
One more update today guys.  
-T_**


	28. (You're drowning)

_…__You're drowning…_

"So, you've been hanging out with that Cullen boy a lot," my father says one morning before school. My head snaps up at his words, but he's busy pretending to solve the crossword in the paper.

His eyes meet mine, and I look away. I shrug, unsure what to say to his statement. It's true, but I don't want him to worry. I haven't lied to him about Edward, but I haven't been completely honest either.

I sometimes imply that I'll be hanging with Angela when really I'm driving into the Cullen's driveway.

"We're just friends, Daddy," I say, pushing around the cereal in my bowl and avoiding eye contact. My father is usually blissfully unaware. He trusts me. I've never given him a reason not to, but I know if he wanted he would be able to read me like an open book.

"Friends, right," he scoffs.

"Really, we are," I say, meeting his eyes. For this is true. Edward has never implied we're anything more. Just friends. Even though I like to think we're more.

"I just…want you to be careful. Boys like him…they're not the right kind of boys for you, sweetheart," he warns. I roll my eyes, but he catches it. "It's true. Maybe you should focus on some of your other friendships."

I shrug again, because his words remind me how desperately I miss Angela. I haven't spoken to her since our disagreement two weeks ago.

"I gotta go, Dad," I say, getting up from the table and placing my bowl in the sink.

"Bella!" he calls, but I'm already out the door.

**_Oh, teenage angst.  
Really guys, I love reading your thoughts and how much everyone worries for Bella. It makes me feel like maybe I'm writing this right. 'til tomorrow. _**

**_-T_**


	29. He's long gone

_…__he's long gone…_

"Hey," he says, casually approaching me in the lunch line. I smile, happy to see him.

"Hi," I greet. We slide up in line, and he runs his hand through his hair.

"So, I know I said we'd do something today, but I can't," he tells me. I try not to let the disappointment show. We haven't hung out in almost a week, and though I am reluctant to admit it, I miss him. I was looking forward to today.

"Oh, I mean, that's ok," I say. I grab the bottled water I forgot to pack into my homemade lunch and head towards the check out. Edward follows along. I've been avoiding the cafeteria since I no longer sit with Angela. The librarians don't seem to mind if I eat in the library as long as I don't make a mess. "Are we still okay for this weekend?"

When he doesn't answer right away, I turn to look at him. He's smiling about something on his phone. He startles and meets my eyes. "What?"

"This weekend?" I repeat. He shrugs as we approach the cashier. He takes a dollar out of his wallet and pays for my drink.

"I don't know. I'll let you know," he says, before offering a half wave and making his way back to his lunch table.

"Thanks," I say to no one, before making my way to the library.

**_Strap on your life vests, folks. We're about to hit some choppy waters. _**


	30. I heard you moved on

_…__I heard you moved on…_

I don't know what causes me to approach the car that Friday afternoon. I should have just walked on and let him be. But the frustration of being avoided and the jealousy of seeing him so casually laid back, thrust me forward.

I recognize the pretty girl he's talking to. She's popular and much more involved in Edward's crowd of friends. I've seen her sitting at his lunch table a time or two. It angers me that I was never even bothered to be invited, but she can easily join the table due to mutual friends.

She's laughing at something he says when I approach. Since I'm approaching Edward from behind, she sees me first.

"Hey, Bella," she greets, and Edward turns. He smiles, but does not add any space between them. He acts like he's doing nothing wrong and maybe he isn't, but I wish he were more worried. I wish I could slide up and place a kiss on his lips, claim him as he did me.

But I can't because I fear it will drive him away. He's been distant already, and I don't want my unwelcomed affection to be the final nail on the coffin.

"What's up?" he asks.

"My truck won't start," I lie easily, surprising myself at how quickly it comes. "Can I get a ride home?"

He nods once and turns back to the junior girl.

"I'll see you later, G," he says to her and playfully tugs on her ponytail. She giggles and waves to us both as she walks away. He turns to me and offers a bright smile before unlocking the car.

I slide in. He gets in a moment after and turns on the car.

"So, turns out I can't hang out tomorrow like we planned. But maybe some time next week," he says as he backs his car way. I nod and look out the window. I already know when next week rolls around there will be another excuse at the ready.

I knew this was a temporary situation. I was fully prepared going in, but over the past few weeks I've grown increasingly attached. I'm not ready for our time to be over and I'm afraid that's exactly what he's telling me. I want to hold on just a bit longer.

I want long nights on the telephone talking about absolutely nothing. I want lazy Sundays in his arms. I want steamy make outs in his room after school.

I want Edward Cullen, and my heart pounds as I think of ways to make him stay.

**_Oh boy, Bella..._**


	31. Flew me to places

_…__flew me to places…_

I'm not entirely sure how I ended up here, on my bed and astride Edward. I don't give it much thought as I grasp his jaw in my hands, the hard line of it pressing into my fingers.

If he was surprised by my sudden kiss, he's not anymore. He's kissing me back with a ferocity I don't quite understand. I don't want to analyze it, I just want to feel. I just want to lose myself to his warms hands and wet mouth. I don't think as I pull away long enough to pull off my t-shirt.

"Bella," he breathes, and it sounds like a plea. I don't listen, or maybe I do, as I begin to tug onto his shirt. "We don't have to…maybe we should… I don't think…"

He's breathless and panting and can barely speak words. I love that I can make him so flustered.

"I want to," I whisper back, my voice coming in harsh pants.

Things are moving fast, but I'm lost in a haze of lust and what might just be love.

I can't imagine loving a boy like Edward Cullen, but lord help me if he hasn't caught me in his crazy spell.

His lips are hypnotizing and pleasure filled, and I can't stop him now.

It isn't long until we're completely naked, and my breathing is harsh as the nerves take over.

"Bella, I—," I don't let him finish what he's trying to say. I pull his mouth down to mine and just kiss him.

Soon his fingers find me, and I can't concentrate on the kisses. I bury face in the crook of his neck as he finds places to bring me pleasure. I fade into him once more, and then he is pushing into me.

It's not as painful as I imagined, but it's extremely uncomfortable. He moves slowly, allowing me to adjust to the sudden intrusion. His mouth is placing tiny heated kissed all along my neck and shoulder, and I think that this isn't too bad.

I try to focus on the good things, like the sliding of his stomach against mine and the weight of his body. I try to focus on the pleasure etched on his face, and the way it feels when he kisses me. I try to focus on anything other than the uncomfortable sting, and the guilt in my stomach.

When it is over, and he is breathing heavily into my neck, I do my best to hide my tears.

"Are you alright?" he asks. I nod, not trusting my voice enough to speak. I take his arm, and wrap it around me as I turn. He seems to know what I'm asking for without words. He presses his chest against my back and holds me.

When both our breathing has become even, and I'm nearing the cusp of sleep, I hear his voice.

"Charlie?" he breathes.

"Third shift," I answer. It satisfies him for the moment, and he buries his face back into my hair, the heat of his body soothing and comforting.

I drift to sleep and pretend everything is alright.

_**Can we just take a moment and talk about how awesome all you guys are?  
**_**_Seriously thanks for reading and reviewing. It's such a blast to read your thoughts.  
I know Bella is being a bit annoying and you all kind of want to shake some sense into her, but she's gotta learn the hard way. _**

_**Share your thoughts!  
****-T**_


	32. I'm lying on the cold hard ground

_…__I'm lying on the cold hard ground…_

When I awake a few hours later, he is gone.

I wish I could say it was a surprise, but deep down I expected it. I feel tears like pins behind my eyes, waiting to release. I wasn't expecting to feel so empty. I feel like he has taken a part of my soul with him.

I get up and grab my toiletries. My body is already feeling the effects of my awkward encounter. I set up a bath, and once it is halfway full, immerse myself in it.

It is then I allow myself to cry.

I cry because I know I am way too deep. I know that I have given something to a boy who has no idea what to do with it. I am a fool, and I feel used and cheap.

I cry because more than anything I wish my mother could be here to tell me it's alright.

I cry because I feel alone.

_**So I was supposed to mention that this would not be a teen **__**pregnancy **__**story in the last chapter. Sorry for the scare guys, even if it was short lived.  
This chapter was supposed to be posted earlier, but time got away from me.**_

_**Quick note: I'm afraid I will not be able to post tomorrow. I'm going to do my best to at least get one chapter posted, but I can't promise. However, multiple updates will continue on Sunday. Again your response has been amazing and I thank you. Don't forget to review!  
-T **_


	33. The joke is on me

_…__the joke is on me…_

The next day I try to contact him. I feel like speaking to him will make my chest ache a little less. I don't have much to say to him, and I'm not sure I really even want to talk to him, but I feel the need to. He doesn't answer his phone.

After trying to busy my mind all day, I decide to just drive over. Worst case scenario is he won't be home.

The drive over is filled with thoughts of what I will say. I want a commitment, but I'm afraid to ask for it. I'm afraid to change the dynamic of our relationship, but I'm tired of living in this strange limbo.

When I pull into his driveway, I'm shocked. It is filled with cars, like the night he invited me to his party. A part of me wants to reverse and forget about it. Another part of me is angry that he kept this a secret.

I sigh, park my car, and head inside. I'm done being passive.

The party is just as crowded as last time. People are either drunkenly dancing or quietly chatting among the open space. I search for him, more than a little hurt that he did not invite me.

When I find him, I stop short. The cannon is lit and shoots straight at my heart. I can barely breathe. He is talking to the pretty junior girl from the other day. Her hair is curled, and she wears a dress that shapes her curves. She looks exactly like all the other girls Edward has hung out with. They're talking quietly in the corner of the kitchen, and she giggles into her hand when he leans into her ear to speak.

And suddenly it is not Gianna that I see standing next to him. It's me.

I was that girl. I was the one entranced in Edward's attention. He made me feel like an exotic flower in his garden. But I can't even find myself to be jealous. Because I know Gianna will stand in my place soon enough, left behind like a weed.

I take a step back, turning and making my way out of the house.

In my haste, my feet stumble and I trip down the porch steps. I fall on my hands and knees into the gravel, the small stones slicing my palms. The few partygoers, hanging on the porch, laugh at my expense.

In that moment, I wish that he would come to my rescue like he did those many weeks before. But I am not a damsel, and he is surely not my knight. I pick myself off the ground, brush myself off, and head to my car.

After all, even Alice had to return home.

**_Sorry I was absent yesterday, guys. But I really just wasn't able to get to a computer. _****_  
_****_Anyway, again I just want to extend my thanks to everyone who takes the time to review. It's so awesome getting to read your thoughts and opinions. Sometimes it's very difficult to send _****_individual thank yous to everyone, but know that if you have any questions I will respond back. _**

**_So if you have questions: ask them, if you have concerns: share them, if you just want to tell me how much of a D**k Edward is: please do so. (:  
(see you later today) -T _**


	34. You never loved me

_…you never loved me…_

I feel like I stare at my phone all of Sunday. A small part of me wants him to call me back. I want an explanation, or at the very least, an apology. I want to go back to when things were good, and I was lying next to him in bed, starring at the stars on his ceilings.

I want to go back to when he offered me a ride home and send him to hell.

I want to be back in his basement, before his friends came, when we were able to talk about everything and nothing.

I want to go back to third grade when he offered me a valentine and rip it in half.

More than anything, I want this gaping hole in my chest to disappear. I want to stop the tears that find their way out.

I just want to be okay again.

When it all becomes too much and the loneliness eats away at my very chest, I pick up my phone. I stare at my mother's contact, my finger hovering over her picture. I want so desperately to call her. I want to hear her voice and ask how I will ever be okay again. I want to know that this will heal, because, at this moment, it's so extremely painful that I cannot imagine ever being normal again.

I call before I can over think it.

"Hello?" she answers, but I can't find my voice. "Hello? Bella?"

"Mom," I choke, my sob threatening to steal my voice.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asks.

"I just…I thought…I'm so stupid," I cry, holding the phone tightly. She listens to me cry over the phone until I can control myself enough to speak again. "I thought he cared about me."

I know my words don't make sense. I'm babbling and crying, but, call it mother's intuition, she seems to know exactly what's wrong.

"No. No, no, no. You are not stupid. You are beautiful and wonderful, and any boy who can't see that is the stupid one," she tells me.

"Then why is he okay, and why am I the one hurting?"

"Oh, baby. I know it hurts. It always does, but it gets better. I promise it will. One day you'll look back on all this pain, and you'll be proud of it, because it meant you felt something. It meant you were brave enough to put your heart on the line. People who don't feel this type of pain are the people who never really live." Her words are like a blanket on a freezing night.

They don't ease the pain right away, but I know they will eventually.


	35. He'll never see you cry

_…__he'll never see you cry…_

Come Monday morning, I almost expect him to slide up next to my locker. I almost expect to see his half smirk as he asks about my weekend. I almost crave it, and I try not to be disappointed when it doesn't happen. I quickly gather my books and make my way to class.

On the way, a sight stops me. Edward is leaning against Gianna's locker. She's collecting her things and rolling her eyes at something he said. I swallow back the hurt. I don't want to be hurt, but I feel like a fool. I feel the eyes of a hundreds of students staring at me and drowning me with their pity.

What a fool to believe even for a moment that I was different. Every moment we shared feels tainted and generic. And wasn't it just that? Generic.

I was simply another heart to place in his jar, and another notch to line his belt. The thought makes me sick, and I hate that I gave that to him.

I hate that I was ever in his sights.

The hate builds into an anger that heats my skin and rushes down my body. It pushes me toward him and Gianna, catching the attention a few fickle minded sheep. I know their curious as to what I'm about to do, but I won't put on a show for them. I simply have something to say.

I catch his arm and pull him away. I see the shock on his face. He says a quick goodbye to the junior girl and follows me easily enough. I pull him into an empty classroom. I know I don't have long before a teacher will kick us out or students will trickle in. It doesn't matter; I only need a few seconds.

"Bella, what's—"

"Just don't talk okay," I say with an eerie calm, and I can see the panic in his eyes. He isn't used to confrontation, or maybe he isn't used to my type of confrontation. Maybe he expects me to cry and plead with him, but that is the last thing I plan for him to see.

**_So she's got some backbone. Wonder what she's planning on saying...  
Guys, I really look forward to reading everything you have to say. It's sometimes the highlight of my day.  
'til later today  
-T_**


	36. No apologies

_…__no apologies…_

It's silent for a beat before I find my voice.

"I get it. We didn't label anything. We weren't anything special. Everything you told me was probably a ploy to get into my pants, and at the end of the day you won. Bravo. I hope you feel special," I say, sarcastically applauding his great accomplishment. He looks away from me, and for a moment, I think he looks abashed.

"Bella—" he starts, but I cut him off. I'm not finished.

"But just so you know, I hate you're fucking depressing music, and I think pot taste like shit. I like watching bad reality TV and listening to fucking Taylor Swift. And one day I'm going to meet someone who I won't feel the need to change for because he'll like me for all of it. Your opinion has and never will matter, and I'm sorry I ever thought it did." I take a breath and turn to leave, but my mother's words chime in my mind. I turn back to his widened eyes.

"Oh, and Pudge wasn't pathetic for not being afraid to fall for a girl. He was brave. It takes a kind of courage that you will never know, Edward Cullen. Being too afraid to care about anyone; that's what's pathetic."

I turn and open the door of the classroom, walking out before he can say anything.

I'm surprised to find a line of students waiting outside.

"You may all enter your class now. I thank you for your patience," a voice says beside me, and I turn to find Angela pushing away from the wall she was leaning against. She saddles up next to me as we walk toward our first period. "I figured you probably didn't need any witnesses if you were going to murder him."

"Ang, I—" she waves off whatever words I had planned for her.

"Water under the bridge. So, _did_ you murder him? Maybe castrate him?" she asks, and the hopeful gleam in her eyes sends me into fits of laughter. I don't know if it's the relief of her forgiveness, or the closure my heated words gave me, but I feel lighter.

I loop my arm around hers, and she goes on about all the things I missed in the time we were apart.

I can still feel the heavy chains of heartbreak wrapped around my shoulders, but in that moment, I feel a few links fall away.

**_*Pudge was the main character of Looking for Alaska. A book they discussed during his party. _**

**_You guys are awesome. In case you haven't been told that today. :)  
_**


	37. Without me

_…__without me…_

Rumors follow me like a shadow. They're in the hushed voices and sly glances. They're in sudden silences and secret giggles. They're in cryptic Facebook statuses and sudden friend request.

I do my best to ignore it as winter slowly melts into early spring. Soon enough the buzz about prom steals whatever thunder I had, and people forget.

It's an easy thing to do as a boy like Edward Cullen should never have been interested in a girl like me.

It seems no one bothers to remember except me. I would even begin to think that Edward has forgotten as well if it weren't for the looks he sends me. Sometimes I catch I his eyes down the hallway, and if I try hard enough I can almost pretend I see regret. It hurts to see him happy as ever while I'm still trying to pick up the pieces.

I pour my attention into college applications and spend my weekends hanging out with Angela. I'm sorry I ever thought a boy was worth putting ahead of our friendship.

"I think you should do it," she says, walking back into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. I just finished telling her how Alec has once again extended an invitation to the movies.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I'm ready," I confess as she takes a seat. I reach over a take a handful of popcorn.

"So go on one date. Either you realize you really like hanging out with him or you realize you aren't ready. No harm no foul, right?" she says and offers a grin. I shrug, still on the fence.

I'm not sure going out with another boy is the best way to get over Edward.

Then again, I'm not sure you get boys like him. You just learn to move past them.

_**So it seems a sinus infection has invaded my home and claimed me as it's latest victim. I'm doing my best to get out of bed and post, but lemme tell ya, it can be hard.  
Anyway, again I just want to thank everyone who's taking the time to read and rec this story. It's super awesome. **_

**_The story will be coming to close shortly, folks. However, they say there's two sides to every story, and I might just have that other side.  
In the mean time, share the love.  
See you later today(hopefully).  
-T_**


	38. He was long gone

_…__He was long gone…_

"I've been to two of her concerts," he says, and I almost spit the soda I have recently sipped. I don't mean to laugh at him, but I just don't expect him to admit that.

"What? Really?" I ask surprised.

"No lie. I'm actually a closeted Swifty," Alec tells me, and I feel a smile over take my face.

I am glad I gave Alec a chance. He is funny and sweet and everything I want in a boyfriend. Not that we're there, yet. Not even close. It's our third date, and I haven't even let him kiss me.

Edward hangs on me like a scar. A past indiscretion that lingers into my future. I'm trying to get over him. That is the important part, and Alec is patient. It means more to me than he will ever know.

We walk around Port Angeles, enjoying the first warm night we've had in a while. A promise that summer will soon be upon us. The air smells of yesterday's rain and the warm weather has brought out plenty of company.

"And how do you feel about John Green?" I ask, because a part of me can't help but compare him to Edward.

Suddenly, as though my thoughts have the power to conjure him, I bump into a very familiar chest.

"Whoa, sorry," he says, his voice full of laughter. The ghost of a smile that hinted at his lips is gone when he sees who he knocked into.

"It's okay," I say the first words I have spoken to him in almost two months.

His eyes study my face for a moment before looking at my companion.

I take the time to stare at the girl he's with. She's new and tiny. Her hair is put up in a high pony tail and she only wears a bright lipstick that sticks out among her pale skin. She offers me a smile, and I do my best to return it, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

"It was nice seeing you," I say, taking Alec's hand and walking around the couple. I don't have the strength to pretend in front of him. I don't want to make nice with him and his new fling.

"I don't think he likes me much," Alec comments when we are far enough away from them.

"Edward doesn't like anything or anyone," I snip, keeping my eyes ahead so he doesn't see the hurt in my eyes.

"Yeah, well, he might just hate me," Alec sighs.

**_Thanks so much for the well wishes guys. I appreciate them._**


	39. -You found me-

_…you found me…_

_Come outside_

I read the text. My first instinct is to rush down the stairs and meet him.

But another part—the bigger part—doesn't want to be his call girl. I stare at my phone, deciding if I should politely or bluntly tell him to fuck off.

Before the blunt side of me can come through, another text vibrates my phone.

_Please _

It gets me. I roll my eyes and jump off the bed. I grab a sweater and rush down the stairs, grateful my father is working third shift.

I open my front door and see him standing in my driveway. I close the door behind me and cross my arms in front of my chest. The air is warm with the summer heat that begs to be released, and dew has already begun to form on the grass.

I don't walk any closer. He can come to me.

And he does.

He tucks his hand into his tux pockets and rocks back on his heels. I try not to notice how great he looks in the black slacks and fitted jacket. I fail.

"I saw Alec at prom with Angela," he tells me. There isn't accusation in his voice. Only curiosity. However, I do catch the slight grimace when he says Alec's name.

"I didn't want to go. I told them they could go together," I explain, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"I wish you would have come," he says, and I'm suddenly wondering why he's here instead of out with his friends.

"What do you want, Edward?" I ask, because I don't want to be part of his twisted games. I just want it to be over, and I just want to heal.

"Take a ride with me?"

_**Have some faith in Bella. It's all I ask.**_


	40. Now I see

_…__now I see…_

I keep the window down as we pass the familiar streets. I try not to beat myself up about getting in his car. I'm curious, and I want answers. We don't go far, circling around my neighborhood in the dark.

I hate how much I've missed just being in his presence. His car holds the scent of his spicy cologne and just a hint of lemon. I close my eyes as I try to push back the memories of us. I try to remind myself they aren't real.

"Driving clears my mind," he finally says. I smile just a bit.

"I know." It's true. I managed to capture his habits and idiosyncrasies in the short time we were together. I'd like to believe that I was able to see things about him others hadn't, but I'm not sure it's true.

He laughs, and I chance a look at him. He shakes his head and looks at me from the corner of his eye.

"You were right, Bella."

"About?" I ask, because there are many things I want to be right about and many I don't.

"About Pudge. I think he was brave. I think it takes a lot of courage to love or care about someone knowing how much they could hurt you," he says, and I hold back my tears.

"Yeah, I've been in his place," I say and watch as the words seem to strike his cheek one by one. He sighs heavily and parks his car on the next street. I know I'm only about two blocks away from my home. His headlights are the only illumination around us on this darkened road.

"I never meant to hurt you, Bella. I never meant for things to go as far as they did. I'm sorry. I know the words can't possibly be enough, but I am," he tells me, and the words are the arrows that find the chinks in my armor. I feel the pinprick of tears and do my best to hold them back.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask.

"Because I want to be brave. Because you deserve to hear it. Above all, I just want you to know that you were different for me, Bella."

I roll my eyes.

"You have a great way of showing it," I snap. I don't mean to be bitter, but I'm still hurting. To some degree I know his words will help the burn he caused, but I'm not sure they help now.

"I know." He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "Truth is, you scared the ever living shit out of me. I didn't expect to care about you so much, but you got under my skin. I panicked, because I didn't know what to do with what I was feeling."

"Anything would probably have been better than what you did," I say, and he shrugs, his shoulders heavy with what I assume is guilt.

"Hindsight," he mutters, and I laugh in disbelief. I know all too well about hindsight.

"Well, I guess I should own up to some of it. I knew how this would end," I tell him, sighing and leaning back in the seat. He mimics me.

"I can't get you off my mind, Bella. I miss you like hell, and if I thought I stood a chance, I would ask for another try. I hate that I hurt you, and I just want you to know," he says, and I can see the gleam of tears in his eyes. He swallows nervously, and I've never seen him look so vulnerable.

His words are the push that my tears need. They slide down my cheeks and trickle onto my palms. I wipe them away and take a deep breath.

I almost want to give him another chance. I want to feel like I did in the beginning, falling effortlessly. I want to feel the thrill and the butterflies and the happiness. But I know what it feels like to hit the bottom, and I am scared. I don't want to feel that again, and at the end of the day, I don't trust him not to drop me.

I just want to get over Edward Cullen.

I wipe the fresh tears from my cheek and turn to face him. I know he can see my answer already.

"Thank you for apologizing. I wish I could trust you again, but—" I collect myself, controlling the sobs that threaten to break through "I can't."

He bites his lip and looks out the windshield.

"I expected that answer, but it still hurts like hell to hear," he says, his voice breaking. I want to apologize, but I can't. I'm glad he's hurting. I'm glad he finally understands what he can do to people. It still hurts to see him in pain, though. I reach out and wrap my hand around his, offering the only comfort I can.

He squeezes my fingers once before letting them go.

"Let's get you home."

It's quiet the entire way home, the car filled with heartbreak and regret. It's suffocating. He parks in front of my home, and I look at my house from his window.

"I've talked to my mom," I tell him, because if nothing else, I took that away from our relationship. I'm not sure I would have found the strength to reach out to her if he hadn't broken me. In a twisted way, I'm grateful for my experience.

A genuine smile lights his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm going to spend the summer with her. Try and fix things," I explain.

"I've talked to my parents too," he tells me, and I can't keep the smile from stretching across my face. I want to ask him how it went, and what was said, but I'm not ready to be so involved in his life.

"That's great," I say instead. He shrugs, before taking a deep stuttering breath.

"They agreed on some counseling. Family therapy, too. It's a start," he shares, and I reach for his hand once more. He looks down at my tiny hand in his, his thumb tracing over my fingers.

He places a gentle kiss on my knuckles, and of all the moments I've shared with him, this feels the most intimate.

I step out the car, and he pulls away from the curb. I watch his car fade away into the fog, but his kiss still tingles on my skin.

That's the trouble with boys like Edward Cullen.

They might be gone, but they never really fade away from you.

**_Okay there is one more chapter left of this story, which I will post tomorrow. It will serve as an epilogue and last chapter (as it is a time jump)._**

**_I just want to say that when I started this story two years ago, my main intention was to make it as real as possible. I wanted to write what it felt like to get lost in a boy and sometimes (most times) those situations do not end happily. The happiness is found in the strength to pick yourself back up and to be brave enough to try again.  
However, keep in mind we still have one more chapter. _**

**_Thanks for showing your love guys. _**

**_Until tomorrow. _**

**_:)_**


	41. I knew you were trouble

_…__I knew you were trouble…_

"Ugh, I can't believe you're still rocking that tan," Angela groans for the hundredth time. She mentions my tan every time I show off skin, which happens to be a lot since summer is reluctant to let the cool fall weather take over.

"What can I say? The Florida sun loves my skin," I gloat, having fun teasing her. She adjusts her sunglasses and lightly pushes my shoulder. We're enjoying the rare hot weather, relaxing on a bench on our new university campus.

"Oh, look it's Alice!" Angela says suddenly. She calls out to this girl I'm unfamiliar with, but I know Angela has made fast friends with since they have Com together.

The girl approaches us, looking like she walked out of a summer catalog in white shorts and golden brown skin. She smiles brightly, and I can't help but feel like I've seen her before.

"Hey, Ang," the girl, Alice, greets with a bright smile.

"Hey, Ali. This is my friend Bella. Bella, this is Alice. We share a class together," Angela introduces.

"Yeah, with Professor Fitz. Oh my god, this guy looks like the Penguin from Batman. I swear he even waddles," Alice says and the two of them go into fit a giggles. I smile along, but something about Alice is ringing a bell in my head. I know I didn't go to high school with her. Our graduating class was much too small to forget a face.

"Do I know you?" I ask abruptly, the curiosity biting at my heels. Alice narrows her eyes as she examines my face.

"Did you go to Forks High School?" she asks. I nod, and she gets another pensive look upon her face. "Do you know Jasper Whitlock? We started dating last spring. I also went to a few of Edward's parties so maybe—"

I feel the light bulb illuminate over my head at the mention of Edward. I'm suddenly back on the Port Angeles street, staring at what I thought was another of Edward's flings, but now realizing was just a friend.

"—goes here," Alice finishes, and I realize I completely spaced out. I also realize Alice is a bit of a babbler.

"I'm sorry, Alice, I totally spaced out after Whitlock. What did you say?" Angela says, and I slap my hand over my face. Angela has no filter.

"Oh, shoot. Was I babbling again? I know you said you space out when I babble. I'm sorry," she begins again, but cringes when she sees Angela's look of disapproval. "Right. Sorry. I was just talking about Edward. He goes to UDub."

This news comes as a surprise to me. I'd lost contact with Edward after graduation, not that I tried especially hard to keep it. Edward still leaves a shadow of hurt over my heart, even if I feel I've come out stronger. Spending over 3,000 miles away from him for 3 months helped stitch up any lingering wounds, but the marks are still there.

"I thought he was going to a school in Chicago?" I ask, because I can't help the curiosity.

"He wanted to stay close to his family," she says with a shrug. I feel a small smile play at my lips, knowing that things are going well if he chose to stay. It makes me happy to know he's doing better.

"That's interesting," Angela says, lowering her sunglasses to give me a look. I roll my eyes and push her shoulder.

The next morning, I'm in line at the coffee stand, waiting for my morning fix when someone approaches me.

I find it funny that though I've been attending UDub for a little over a month, I've never ran into his familiar face, but the moment I know he goes here I see him.

"Hey," Edward says, sliding up next to me in line. I look him over with surprise.

He looks different and all the same. His hair is shorter than the last time I saw him, and he's growing out his scruff. His skin is sun kissed, and he still manages to rock his famous smirk. I can't stop my heart from pounding just a little harder.

"Hi," I say in surprise. The moment is awkward as I'm unsure how to greet him. He takes it over for me as he holds out a hand. I laugh, but grab it firmly and give it a shake.

"How's it going?" he asks, tucking his hands in his back pocket.

"I'm doing pretty great," I say, and it's true. I'm standing with a newfound confidence that not even Edward Cullen can shake. I'm not worried about what I look like or how he sees me. His opinion of me doesn't really matter.

"That's…you look great," he mumbles, his eyes shying away from me. We approach the counter.

"I'll have a mocha iced coffee, cream and sugar," I tell the barista, and Edward surprises me by giving his order at the same time.

"And I'll have a small coffee, just sugar." He reaches for his wallet, and I realize his intent is to pay for both our drinks. I can't help but think back to Fork's lunch line. I place a hand on his arm and shake my head as I hand the barista my bank card.

"It's on me this time," I tell him. He blushes.

A few moments later we're given our order.

"Do you…um…do you have a class or something?" he asks, his fingers playing with the lid of his coffee. I've never seen him look so nervous. I pull out my phone and check the time.

"I have about an hour or so," I tell him.

"Do you wanna go sit somewhere? Catch up for a bit?" he asks. I stir my drink around, mixing the mocha and sugar that has collected at the bottom.

"Okay," I answer, not seeing the harm in talking for an hour or so. We travel to a stone bench and watch coeds rush to their morning class. The air is cool with morning dew, but the sunshine is promising. Soon it'll be far too warm, but for now, it is comfortable.

The conversation starts off light, talking about the weather and our majors. Eventually I ask about his family to which he responds that the situation has gotten better, and that counseling has helped them work through their problems. He asks about my mother, and I share all my Florida stories.

I tell him about the break up with Alec just before I left for Florida. The distance was too much, knowing he would be leaving to Arizona when I returned. We decided to split as friends. I mention the boy I met during summer, and how easy it was to fall for him, even if it ended with summer. It doesn't seem awkward or strange to share this information. He's generally accepting of it and even jokes about finding my own summer romance. I find that it could be very easy to be friends with Edward.

When my time is almost up, he asks a question.

"You told me once that you couldn't trust me. Is that still the case?" he asks, his eyes squinting as the sun shines down on us. I look down at my nearly finished coffee, stirring it once more.

"I think I can begin to try to trust you," I answer honestly, because I'm ready to forgive. I'm ready to leave the past in the past, and focus on my future.

"So we can be friends?" he asks. I smile, knowing there was a time he was reluctant to even call us that.

"Yeah, we can be friends," I say and hold out my hand as he did earlier. He chuckles but takes it, shaking it once.

He then twists my hand and brings my knuckles to his lips. He places a soft kiss upon them, never looking away from my eyes.

Something about the look I see in his eyes tells me I am once again in trouble, but this time around…

So is Edward.

_…__fin…_

**_Oh my goodness, I can't believe it's finished._**

**_When I started this story, it was meant to be therapeutic for me. I never really planned on sharing it. But I'm glad I did. I'm glad you were able to connect with this Bella on an emotional level. It's been such a joy reading everyone's thoughts. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read, review, or rec this story. It's been awesome having so much support from everyone. _**

**_I do have an EPOV of this story. It's in the roughest version it can be, as I wrote it the same time I wrote this story. I do plan on sharing some scenes so that everyone can get a better view point from his mind. I do not promise that it will redeem him, but maybe there'll be a better understanding. I ask for time to clean it up. But keep a look out as I will post it here. _**

**_Again I can't even begin to thank everyone so much. It's been a pleasure.  
Until next time.  
-T_**

**_**Chapter titles and original inspiration comes from Taylor's Swift "I Knew You Were Trouble" off her _****_Red_****_ album. _**


	42. Outtake 1

**The Trouble EPOV**

**Note**: This will not be the entire story. Instead it will be a few scenes, rearranged into parts. I have around 6 parts. Because these are longer (not much I know) I'm planning on posting twice a week instead of everyday. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks again to everyone who's recommended and shared it and supported it. It's been so awesome.

The lyrics come from the Rixton cover I Knew You Were Trouble. Thanks so much to Sandprincess13 for pointing it out to me.

Part One

_…Once upon a time  
a few late nights ago…_

"Just fucking text her and quit your bitchin'" Jasper moans, throwing his empty soda can at Emmett's head. Emmett dodges and flips him the bird. I roll my eyes at their antics.

"I'm not texting her. Fuck her," Emmett mutters, taking a swig of his beer.

I don't get to see Emmett too much. Since he started at UDub, he only ever comes around during breaks. It would have been nice to spend some time with the happy version of my friend, but his latest breakup has left him a cynical mess. His depression forms into a cloud that rains over his large figure, and we can't help but catch a few raindrops ourselves.

"Yeah, right. By tomorrow you'll be groveling at her feet," Jasper teases, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Like you should talk. You're pussy ass can't even get the girl," Emmett comments, and I laugh at the honesty of the statement. Jasper has been hung up on Maria Sanchez for over a year. He is so deep in the friendzone with that girl, he's practically her brother.

It's kind of pathetic to watch, but nothing we've done has been able to convince him she isn't worth it.

"Fuck you, Ed. We can't all be heartless bastards," Jasper says, and I roll my eyes.

"I'm not heartless. I'm just not trying to get wrapped up in some dramatic high school bullshit. Look at you two, it's pathetic." I'd learned my lesson about girls and all the shit they caused. I wasn't about to step into another downward spiral leading nowhere.

"A little drama keeps things interesting," Emmett says, waggling his eyebrows like he's from some damn cartoon. Again I roll my eyes. I'm surprised I'm not dizzy from how much I've done this particular action.

"Right, Emmett, because all our relationships need to represent some shitty Taylor Swift song. Tell me again how you're never getting back together with this girl?" I joke, and Jasper laughs. Emmett looks disgruntled for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in and his lower lip pouting. He shakes it off in true Emmett fashion and prepares his argument.

"Look, all I'm saying is that sometimes it feels a little better when you've worked for it. Am I right, Jazz?" Emmett goads. Jasper relaxes back on the sofa as our game comes to a close, his face deep in thought.

"Yeah, I can see that. There's almost like the sweet glory of victory when you've finally unlocked a girl's affection," Jasper agrees, a slow smile spreading across his face as, what I suspect, an old memory comes to mind.

"Bullshit," I laugh, knowing these fuckers are playing me.

"What would he know, Em? He's never had to work for a girl. They all just throw themselves at him," Jasper says.

"Alright, you jealous fuckers, let's play another game," I say, wanting to change the topic of this stupid conversation.

But seeds of curiosity never grow into anything good, and that is exactly what they plant with their words.

o.0.o

It wasn't that I didn't know _how_ to work for a girl's attention.

I just never really had to. Girls always seem to present themselves to me in pretty bows, and who was I to turn them down?

They were always willing to have a little fun without getting too attached. It made things easy on both of us.

So why I wanted to complicate that, I had no idea.

o.0.o

I don't know why I pick her. I'm sure there are plenty of other candidates that would offer me just as good as a challenge. In fact, the friend that catches me staring would do just as well and is perhaps the prettier of the two.

But I suppose I have never really shaken my childhood infatuation for this girl.

Looking at her now, I can hardly remember why I ever liked her. She's not exactly my type.

In truth, Bella Swan is the antithesis of my type.

I prefer the cool gleam of blondes and pinpointing all the shades of blue in a girl's eyes. I like to see color on a girl's lips, reminding me just what type of fun I can have with them. I like seeing the endless amounts of skin, either tan from the summer sun or glowing in their creamy paleness. And as cliché as it sounds, nothing beats the look of confidence on a girl.

Bella Swan is none of those things. She keeps her dark hair picked up and her skin covered in layers of clothing. Her shyness is almost painful, and I don't think I've ever seen her wear any type of makeup.

Something in my gut tells me not to pick her. It tells me to pick anyone else. Anyone.

But ironically, it's that exact feeling that makes me want her all the more.

o.0.o

I'm still debating about the girl later that day, when I feel fate makes the choice for me.

As I pass the biology room, I witness none other than Bella Swan tumble out the door. Literally.

She topples forward and drops to the ground. She uses her palms to soften her blow, and her books spill everywhere, littering the linoleum floor with textbooks and random scraps of paper. Her face reddens instantly as she lets out a groan of pain—or embarrassment; I'm not entirely sure.

She immediately begins to grab at her things, and I rush to help, picking up pages of her homework and the notebook that slid just out of her reach. Her face brightens even more when she realizes she's being helped, but she focuses on the task at hand instead of looking up.

Wordlessly, I offer her the paperwork. She looks up then, a thank you playing at her lips.

When she sees me, her face falls instantly. If I thought she couldn't blush anymore, I was wrong. A look of mortification fills her abnormally large eyes, and she quickly grabs her things and runs off.

I can't help but feel that Bella Swan is exactly what I'm looking for.

**_So…thoughts?  
Next update will hopefully be on Monday. I'm going to stick to a Monday/Friday posting. I'm hoping that works out.  
Until next time. :)_**

**-T**


	43. Outtake 2

Part Two

_…You knew I was trouble when I walked in…_

I'm packing my bag into my trunk when I hear it: the sound of an engine starting and then sputtering off in misery.

It doesn't take long to find the car. It's parked several spaces down from mine, rusted and red.

It's been an exhausting day, and I want nothing more than to head home. I want to pretend to ignore it.

But I know, from the cars left, that there is no one at school she would even think to ask for help. I think it's watching her head fall atop her steering wheel in defeat that pushes me forward.

I tap on the window, watching as her shoulders jump. Her wide brown eyes land on mine immediately. They're too big for her face and show everything she's thinking. She throws open the door, and I can't help but find humor in the disdain I see in her eyes.

"Car trouble?" I ask needlessly. I'm surprised her rust bucket is still running, honestly.

"No." She pouts, looking like the toddler she's imitating. I laugh at her. Bella always seem so far beyond her age. She acts like she's above it all, and I guess she is. She isn't into the high school scene, and yet it's almost refreshing to catch her in these rare moments of immaturity. I ask her to turn the car on again.

The way the car dies out immediately has me believing it's the battery. I check her engine. I'm no gearhead like Em, but I've picked up a few things from being around him.

I suspect she might be able to revive it with a jump, but I lack the cables. I tell her my suspicion, and she groans, flopping back on the seat. I grin at her dramatics.

"Need a ride?" I ask, because I can't just leave her in this parking lot. I'm not sure she'll accept, but my conscious will rest easy knowing I at least offered.

Her head snaps up, and I'm caught off guard by the look in her eyes. "Are you offering?"

I can't help the chuckle that escapes. She has ceased to surprise me. I motion for her to follow with a flick of my head and turn toward my car. She closes the door and shuffles behind me.

o.0.o

"You know where I live?" she asks as I pull up in front of her home. I roll my eyes. I pretty much know where everyone in this town lives. But I offer an explanation nonetheless.

"We carpooled."

"In fourth grade," she laughs.

I remind her of the size of the town. She nods, accepting my explanation. Forks is a merry-go-round of unchanging events. Once you enter, you're memorized in the safety of predictability. Every once in a while, someone escapes to the outside world. One day, I plan to join the lucky few.

She thanks me for the ride, bringing me out of my thoughts, and grabs her things, racing out my car like it's on fire.

I wait for her to enter her house before speeding away.

o.0.o

It doesn't take long for word to spread about her.

Someone lights the match and sets it on a trail of gasoline, sending gossip through the school in seconds. No one can quite understand why I would even bother, wondering when my attention will waver. It angers me that they have nothing better to talk about.

I know why they're wondering. I know their suspicions are set in some inkling of truth. I've grown bored with girls, eager to move on once my interest has waned. I've never bothered to take any of them seriously.

And why should I?

It's not like I planned on sticking around after senior year. I don't want anything or anyone to tie me to this town. Least of all a relationship that's bound to burn in flames.

But Jasper's and Emmett's words ring true in my head. There's something about Bella Swan that keeps me coming back. She's fun and interesting. I want to crack the shell she's so determined to hide in. It's proving to be the challenge I expected, but she's always throwing me for a loop.

Like when she invites me inside after I've offered her a ride home.

"Daddy won't mind?" I ask, because I'm not particularly thrilled with coming face to face with a disgruntled Charlie.

"Daddy isn't here," she taunts, already sliding out the car. I shake my head and follow her.

She leads me into the kitchen and offers me lemonade. I accept, taking the moment to observe her home. It's smaller than mine, but that's no surprise. Most everyone's house in Forks is smaller than mine.

It looks like a _home_ though. I can already see the evidence of Charlie's and Bella's presence in this kitchen. There are forget-me-nots tacked to the fridge by decorative magnets, some from vacation destinations. The mail, mostly college brochures, is spread out atop the kitchen table, waiting to be read. A tackle box—which I assume to be Charlie's—is resting on the far corner of the counter top. Their personalities are radiating out of _just_ this room, while my entire house couldn't possibly tell you a thing about our family.

My house is like a television set; it's meant to represent a wholesome home, but never actually used as one.

She fetches a pitcher from her fridge. She concentrates on the task; the only sound in the kitchen is the ice clinking against the glass as she pours.

I wonder if I can't just crack her shell here. I step closer, feeling the warmth of her back permeate through my jacket. Her scent envelopes me almost instantly, like walking into a field of wildflowers. Her scent, unlike most girls, is private. She doesn't leave it lingering in the air as she passes you by. It's only when invited into her space can you smell her fragrance, which I find I rather enjoy.

She whips around, and in a moment, we're face to face. Her eyes widen, becoming impossibly bigger. I can just manage to catch sight of her pupils at this proximity, just a shade darker than her normal color.

She breathes heavily, and my sight drops to her lips. I always liked color on a girl's lips. I like the way the gloss catches the light or the way the color outlines the shapes. I like smudging the lipstick and wiping the remnants off my skin at the end of the night, yet there is something to be said about the naked lip.

Something to be said about Bella's naked lips, plump and full and inviting.

I want so badly to kiss this girl.

The moment I decide to go for it is the moment her head snaps to a sudden sound. The look of panic in her eyes alerts me to exactly what is happening.

Calmly, I take a step back. I provide an innocent amount of space between us just as the chief himself walks into the kitchen, muttering about my car.

He stops when he catches us. I see his eyes harden instantly, a warning set within them.

I take the explanation out of Bella's hands, knowing she's bound to be a sputtering mess. I can't help but tease him just a bit, leaning over his daughter and taking the forgotten lemonade from the counter. His face flushes red as I take a sip.

He all but kicks me out after that stunt. I hand the cup back to Bella, whose big brown eyes are wide with disbelief and face is pink with embarrassment.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Bella." I turn toward the chief, offering him a sarcastic salute. "Mr. Swan, sir."

He nods once as I head out the kitchen and toward my car.

I'm disappointed our moment was interrupted, but something tells me it won't be the last.

**_Guys, I'm so sorry to have gone AWOL this week. Life's been busy, but I've been trying. Hopefully I'm better about Monday and can get the next outtake up by then. _**

**_Again thanks so much for sharing your thoughts. I know Edward seems like an ass, which I cannot deny that he is, but personally I don't think he's a bad guy. Just an immature teenager that tends to think about himself more than others. I can't wait to see how everyone's opinion of him develops.  
So thanks for all the awesome support. You guys are da bomb dot com_**

**_**The Trouble has been nominated over at www. twifanfictionrecs .com  
That is really awesome, so don't be afraid to head over and vote for your favorite. Even if it isn't my story. _**


	44. Outtake 3

Part Three

_…made so many plans I had to rearrange  
around you …_

It's almost eleven when my mother enters the house. Her heels click against the hardwood as she makes her way into the kitchen.

She startles when she sees me, but I can see the visible relief she has that I am not my father.

"Where's Carlisle?" she asks, and I roll my eyes at her attempt to care.

"Working, I guess."

"He was supposed to be home. Did you eat?" she asks, rummaging through her bag. Her voice is filled with irritation and contempt. I do my best not to point out that she was supposed to be home, too. Thursdays are our 'family' dinner nights. This Thursday was especially important since both of them are out of town for the weekend. Separate trips, of course.

"Yeah. I stopped at the diner," I tell her.

"This man. I can't rely on him for anything," she mutters, finally finding her phone in her bag and meeting my eyes. I know what happens now.

"I'm gonna go to bed," I tell her.

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you Monday, all right," she says, coming close and placing a kiss on my head. I nod and slide off the stool, headed to my room. I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear her bickering with my father over the phone.

o.0.o

Though I invited her, I'm still surprised to find her wondering through the kitchen. She looks lost and just a bit scared. It's almost endearing.

I approach, grabbing her arm to stop her from further wondering.

"Bella, you came." She spins quickly, losing her balance and taking a step closer to right herself. It brings us chest to chest. I wait for her to speak, but she looks a bit flushed and overwhelmed.

"I'm glad you're here," I say, letting her have the time to recover. And I am glad. She's surprised me.

I throw the parties as a way to piss off my parents, but I guess they would actually have to notice in order to care. The amount of people that come are always more than I invite, and I find I don't know many of them. I don't really care as long as they don't break shit.

I usually spend the parties in the basement with Jay, Seth, and the lucky girls we decided to invite down. The next day I make a half hearted attempt at cleaning, picking up the fallen cups and random spills. Maria usually finishes the cleaning job, with a scornful glance in my direction.

I offer her a drink, remembering the last time I was at her home and wanting to return the favor. She accepts, and I rush to get her soda.

"Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?" I ask, and she shrugs. I take the noncommittal answer as a yes and grasp her tiny hand in my own.

Her fingers are cold as they wrap around my palm; they make my skin tingle with nervous energy. She follows easily enough, letting me lead her to the stairs. I don't know why I don't take her to the basement. I tell myself it's because we could be interrupted, but deep down I know that's not it.

Bella doesn't feel like a basement girl, taking her to my bedroom, however, seems terrifying. She hesitates at the stairs, and I turn. I could back out here. I could offer her the study or find a space in the living room, but I almost want to see her in my bedroom. I want to see her in the only room that offers a bit of personality. "You comin'?"

She smiles, an easy smile that seems to brighten her face. She nods once and allows me to take her to my bedroom.

Watching her walk in causes my chest to freeze and I want to get her out. Her big brown eyes scan my room, and I know with every object she takes in, she's witnessing another puzzle piece to who I am.

From my music to my books to the constellations on the ceiling (which I pray to god she doesn't notice), they all tell her something personal about me.

I keep my hands in my pockets to allow her the freedom to explore. Somehow I know she won't really judge anything. I feel comfortable enough to let her see, which immediately make me uncomfortable.

It's only when she pulls out a book and playfully teases me that I am pulled out of my thoughts. I blush as I look at the book that was given to me two summers ago.

"It was a gift," I admit, remembering that summer. The girl who begged me to read it with big blue eyes and hair that glittered in the sun comes into my mind for only a moment.

"I cried throughout the entire book. Even the happy parts," she admits, flipping through the pages. I want to admit that I cried, too. I don't. Instead I brush the book off, and she looks almost insulted.

She doesn't give voice to the words raging behind her eyes. I almost want to hear what she has to say. I don't tell her that I own all the books from that author. I don't tell her that I fell in love with his writing. I know that she'll understand in a way that terrifies me. I'm not really supposed to like this girl.

"And this one?" She asks, pulling out my least favorite from the same author. Her eyes are hopeful as they wait for my opinion.

"The main character was really pathetic. It was hard to feel anything for him. It was generally hard to read," I bite out, still trying to figure out the dichotomy of emotions bubbling beneath my skin. I look away, knowing the hatred for the character is unreasonable.

"I found his passion brave. He wasn't afraid to love, even if she didn't love him back," she says, and I wish I could agree with her words.

I don't. I find him stupid for not knowing the world of hurt he would face. I find him pathetic for moping over the girl that didn't want him. The girl that never would. I hate that he let her use him when he wanted to be her everything.

I admit this out loud, and I can see her visibly bite her lip, trying to contain the argument she wants to have. I wonder why she holds back. I wonder if she's afraid of showing her intelligence.

I doubt it. But it's clear she's afraid of something.

I don't have much time to figure it out before she begins to look at my music collection.

She tells me she doesn't recognize much of my taste, and I tease her about the stereotypical pop artist she probably enjoys. The blush that lights her cheeks confirms my suspicions.

She says something else, but I don't quite hear it. It occurs to me that I've finally managed to get this girl in my room, with no chance of interruption. The urge to kiss her is overwhelming. I want to know what she'll feel like, what she'll taste like.

My curiosity pushes me forward, and soon I'm hovering above her. Her short stature makes me feel strong and masculine, drunk with a sort of power.

The look in her eyes lets me know she feels it, too. Maybe not the same type of power, but a sort of deeper one. It's a heady power that only girls can truly possess. The kind of power that lets them wrap boys around their fingers. The kind of power that allows them to control things behind the scenes.

"Can I kiss you, Bella?" It's clear she won't say no. I can see the desire in her eyes. But I want the conformation.

I want the win.

When she grants it, I can't help but think Jasper and Emmett are right.

It isn't that it's the best kiss I've ever experienced. No.

Far from that.

I've had better. I've had girls that knew what they were doing and taught me new things. I've had kisses that made me feel like I've never kissed before. This kiss isn't like that.

But there is something about this kiss that I've never really found in anyone else.

It is the first piece of chocolate after having trudged through rain and sleet in an uncomfortable mask and scratchy costume. It always manages to taste better when it comes from the decorated bag of honor than the bowl resting on the coffee table of the living room.

I have earned this kiss. I have earned her first kiss.

Once she relaxes and melts onto me, it is incredibly easy to forget this is her first time.

She's soft and warm, and she smells so incredibly sweet. She learns quickly, and her mouth is eager to mimic my movements. It's when she grasps my arms and presses her petite body against mine that an involuntary groan escapes me. I get lost in her scent and her heat and her lips.

It's much better than I ever thought it would be.

When she's gone and the house is empty, her taste lingers in my mouth.

Like that first piece of chocolate on October 31st, I can't help but crave more.

**_Hey guys, I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and a good Easter (if you celebrate it)._**

**_Again you're support on this story has been so overwhelmingly amazing and I can't possibly begin to thank you enough. _**

**_So I hope you enjoy part three._**

**_Until (hopefully) Friday. _**

**_-T_**


	45. Outtake 4

Part Four

_…__Now I realize you've fallin' for me…_

I'm trying to reign myself in. I don't want to get lost in this girl. I don't want to push further than I usually do. Things get much too complicated when sex is brought into the picture. Emotions get involved, and girls get clingy. I don't want that.

But the way this girl is writhing underneath me, her breaths harsh and warm against my ear, makes me want in a way that makes me believe I've never wanted for anything.

Her smell is hypnotizing, and she's soft and smooth and everything I want.

My fingers, having a mind of their own, move to her jeans. I know she's inexperienced. I know I'm the first boy she's ever been intimate with. I know I should slow down, but my mind, filled with all the things I know, is absent from my body which is only filled with want. Want for her. Want to watch her come undone. Want to, if only for a brief moment, make her forget everyone but me.

I do have a sense to wait until she lets me. I don't want to freak her out, but in a move that completely takes me off guard, she breaks the kiss. From the way she gasps for air, I assume it's to breathe. I can breathe just fine, placing soft kisses in trail that leads to her throat. I love her throat. It smells the most like her, and the sounds I get from her always make me drunk with need.

"Mmm, stop," she breathes. I'm suddenly afraid that I've taken this farther than I had any right to. I'm afraid I've misunderstood all of her body language. I pull off her immediately, my eyes roaming her face to make sure she's alright. She looks fine.

"Are you alright?" I ask when I can't find my answer in her face.

"Yeah, yeah," she assures me immediately, probably sensing the panic that has overcome me. "I'm fine, but I should probably get going soon."

I can tell she's embarrassed to reject me and roll off her. I don't want to push her into anything. I may be finding it hard to think with the blood currently gone from my brain, but I respect a girl's no. I'm about to let her know as much when I see that something on my ceiling has caught her attention. I cringe, knowing exactly what has her so entranced.

I'm ready for her to begin mocking me, but I'm surprised when she doesn't.

"Are those the constellations?" she asks, and I don't hear teasing or mockery in her voice, only curiosity. A deep excitement starts to heat my skin. I love that she recognizes them, and before I can stop myself, I'm off the bed. I turn off the lights so she can fully see them and then make my way back to her side.

We lay side to side, staring at the pale yellow stickers that adorn my black ceiling.

Staring at them brings back memories.

I remember the weekly camping trips. I remember mapping out the sky, listening to stories of the great heroes that lived amongst the stars.

I begin explaining to her. I point out my favorite constellations, letting her know a bit of history behind each one.

I know it's far too easy for me to get lost in my knowledge and passion. I could go on for hours, explaining why each story is so interesting and the best places to view each grouping. I know it can grow tiresome to hear, but not for Bella.

She listens attentively, asking a question every so often that sends me off on another tangent of information. I've never really been able to discuss my love for the night sky with anyone but my father, and Lord knows it's been an awful long time since we've chatted about things like that. Bella lets me talk. She listens, and though she may not understand my long tirade of facts, somehow, I know she cares. That unsettling feeling I get whenever I spend time with her comes back. It pricks my skin in a way that is both appealing and uncomfortable.

She shifts, the sheets rustling in the quiet bedroom and asks the only question I don't really want to answer.

"How'd you get into the stars?"

I take a moment to think about my answer, before just settling on a simple truth.

I tell her about the camping trips and how my father's passion spilled onto me. At the time, I loved the stars because he did. I admired him so much I wanted to be just like him. It's ironic that now I want to make sure I end up nothing like him, married to his high school sweetheart and still living in the town he was born in.

I feel I've ruined the easy atmosphere with my words as a thick tension seems to settle over us. The bed dips as Bella turns toward me, rising up on her elbow. I can't see her facial expression, which alarms me because Bella's face is like a personal peek into the complexity that is her mind. I reach behind me, switching on the bedside lamp.

Soon we're encompassed in a buttery light.

I expect to see sympathy on her face, but I don't. I don't see any type of judgment, just a simple smile. She reaches out, and her thin fingers trace a smooth line from the back of my jaw to my chin. Her skin is pleasant against mine, leaving a trail of tingling aftershocks. I can't help but wonder why she has such an effect on me.

I look up and catch her gaze within mine. Her eyes glitter in the light, and for the first time, I've managed to fully see her pupil within the pool of golden brown.

I always enjoyed blue eyes. I admired the way certain clothing made them more prominent or the way the lightening could change them from a clear blue sky to a threatening dark storm.

But I was finally coming to realize how I had underestimated brown eyes. I don't think Bella could make her eyes seem threatening or cold if she tried. They would always be warm, and though I doubted there was much complexity to brown, I've never seen the same shade in her eyes.

"Your eyes change color," I whisper, letting my thoughts be known. She releases a giggle that immediately draws a smile from me and relaxes back into my pillow. I turn toward her, tucking my hands under the pillow as she has done.

"No they don't. They're brown, always," she says immediately. I wonder if she too has underestimated her eyes.

I'm quick to reassure her, letting her in on just a sample of the different shades I've seen in her eyes. My words make her blush, and she closes her eyes, embarrassed by the sudden scrutiny.

When she opens them again, I'm still staring.

It's a weird sort of time I've spent with a girl. There has always been nonsensical chatter.

This isn't. It's just us and the sound of our breaths. I want so badly to kiss her again, but I feel almost lost in this moment.

Eventually the silence does become too much. My fingers twitch to touch her. I move across, and she adjusts to me automatically, rolling onto her back as I hover above her.

I wonder why we even stopped, but then her words ring in my mind.

"I thought you had to go?" I remind her before we start again only to be stopped too early.

She gives a coy smile. "I can spare a few minutes."

I've never been happier to hear such words. I lean in, feeling the heat radiating off her skin. I stop when I can feel the outline of her lips. I want her to take control. I want her permission.

I expect her to meet my lips; it's not like there's a lot of space to close, but she never does what I expect. Instead she pulls back as much as she can, meeting my eyes.

"When you're angry, you're eyes turn a murky green. But right now, they look like a lake," she tells me. I'm about to ask when she's ever seen me angry, but I don't have time. She pulls me down and kisses me with the skills I've given her.

It's not until later that I register what her words mean. She's been paying attention too.

o.0.o

I can't explain the rage that settles underneath my skin, heating it with a burn I'm not familiar with.

I don't even know why seeing her with him bothers me. They aren't doing anything wrong. They're only talking. I mean, technically, if he were to push her against the locker and seal his mouth on hers, they still wouldn't be doing anything wrong. I push that thought immediately out of mind as it only makes the rage grow worse.

I hate this.

It's gone too far. I know that. I shouldn't be jealous.

I shouldn't care this much. I should have let Bella go after the party. But I didn't, and now I want to kick this boy's ass just for making her laugh.

I begin walking toward them when my head hurts from over thinking this. I can end this rage right now.

When I reach her, I wrap my arm around her waist, kissing the soft skin just underneath her jaw, because I can. Because she's already let me. Because _he_ can't.

I see the blush creep up her neck and fan over her cheeks.

"Hey," I say, letting my eyes slide toward the boy. I know him. I was friends with him once upon a time. Alec is too busy looking down at a scuff on the floor. Bella tries to discreetly add some space between us. The air is filled with awkward tension.

"Get back to me," Alec says quickly, rushing to walk from us. I watch him being swallowed by the mass of students headed to class. She won't get back to him. At least, not anytime soon.

Relaxed, I take my place on the locker next to hers. She huffs and rolls her eyes, her irritation hanging on her like a robe.

"What?" I ask, knowing very well why she's irritated. I may have overreacted. For all I know, he could have been asking about the homework, but I wasn't going to take the chance.

I know I'll eventually have to deal with the feelings she brings out in me, but for now I rest in smug satisfaction.

**_Hey guys, happy Friday!_**

**_I was going to get this chapter out earlier, but people actually decided to show up at my job and I had to work. The nerve of them. :)  
This was a fun chapter. Hopefully it was just as fun to read. _**

**_Let me know! 'till Monday. _**

**_-T_**


	46. Outtake 5

Part Five

_…I_ _never meant it that way  
With your heart on your sleeve and your mind on forever…_

"You and Bella seem to be getting close?" Jasper says one afternoon as we chill in the basement.

"She's alright," I tell him, keeping my eyes on the screen.

"You like her?"

I shrug. I don't know how I feel about her. I like her more than I should, but I don't want to over think it. I just want to play the fucking game, but should have known Jasper wouldn't let it go that easily.

"All this shit you gave me over Maria, and you're fucking over the moon for this girl," Jasper teases but his words spark a match, lighting a crate of dynamic anger I didn't know I held.

"Would you just shut the fuck up? No, I'm not over the moon for her. I like her, sure, but she ain't nothing I can't find in any other girl!" I snap, my words coming out more forcefully than I intended. Jasper raises his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes.

"Alright. Alright. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"Whatever, man," I say, trying to play it off. I don't want to fight with him. I don't want to like Bella Swan.

It seems it doesn't really matter what I want anyway.

o.0.o

The door creaks open, and I lift my head to see who it is. My father enters the room, pants pressed and blonde hair slicked back. I rest back down on my pillow and toss the baseball toward the ceiling.

"Hey," he greets. His posture is awkward, and I can tell he doesn't exactly know what to do with himself, sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing around the room.

"Hey," I respond. I don't really know why he's here, and his presence is unwanted. He manages to make the space small and suffocating. My room is my sanctuary, and I hate that he makes it seem less so.

"How's school going?" he asks, walking toward my bookshelves and running his hands casually through my books. I flashback to when Bella was in here. Funny how I've never found her presence in my room to be intrusive.

I suddenly miss her, realizing this is the first weekend we haven't hung out together.

"It's alright."

"Good, good."

"Was there something you needed?" I ask, my words coming out rushed and gauche. I sit up and lean against the headboard. He walks toward my desk, resting against it.

"No. It's just been a while, huh?"

I shrug. Every once in a while my parents realize they haven't spoken to me in almost a week and attempt to catch up in exactly this way.

"So have you decided about Udub?"

The words cause my shoulders to tense. It's the same argument, different day. I think my parents realize if their son is over 2,000 miles away in Chicago, they would actually have to face their sham of a marriage. It's not my responsibility to keep them together, and I'm tired of being their cover up.

And yet, I _have_ been thinking about Udub lately. It doesn't seem so horrible anymore.

"I've given it thought," I answer, knowing both my acceptance letters to Udub and UIC are sitting in the drawers underneath him.

"And?" he prods.

"I still want to go to Chicago," I answer, even though I'm not so sure. That frightens me. I've been so sure about my future plans, and I hate that I'm suddenly second guessing them.

A heavy sigh escapes my father, and I visibly see his shoulders sink.

"Well, let's give it some more time, ey?" He rubs his palms on his slacks. I bite my tongue to avoid an argument, and he walks out my room.

Just then my phone chimes with a text. It's Bella.

Seeing her face on my screen makes me is like a swift slap to my face.

It's her. This girl that wasn't supposed to be anything more than a quench for my curiosity has made me question and rethink everything. An irrational anger builds deep within my stomach. I was doing perfectly fine before her. I had everything set.

I won't let her mess it up for me.

o.0.o

Later that week, I've decided it's time to end things with Bella. It's obvious she's become a bigger distraction than intended, and I just want to go back to the simple relationships I'm used to keeping. I'm unsure how to do it, and I hate that it feels like a breakup.

Break ups mean someone gets hurt.

The dread sits in my stomach like a heavy stone, my mind playing out scenarios of what to say.

Will she be angry? Will she cry? Will she even care?

I'm distracted by the reels playing throughout my head that only the sound of my name can pull me from them.

"You gonna join us, Ed?" someone says, either Seth or Jasper, but I wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, pretending I wasn't lost in my thoughts. Seth slaps my back.

"I think he just said yes!" Maggie says with mock enthusiasm. I roll my eyes at their exaggeration of my absence. It's been a while since I've hung out with them, but I haven't been gone forever.

"Whatever. When?"

"I don't know. Mags, what time you and G get out of practice?" Seth asks.

"We don't have practice today," Maggie answers, looking to the new friend she has recently taken under her wing. The new girl is pretty. Dark hair and light blue eyes. The sorta contradiction that keeps my attention just a bit longer than it should.

"Wait tonight?" I ask when her words register in my mind. I catch a smug look from Jasper, one that says he's expecting me to cancel.

"Yeah, is that okay?" The new girl, Gianna, says. Her baby blues are wide with a glimmer of hope. I know I have plans with Bella, but the stone in my gut feels lighter knowing I can put off the conversation for another day.

"Nah, it's fine," I say, just as I catch a petite form enter the cafeteria. "Just give me a minute."

I'm out of my seat before they can respond, heading into the kitchens. She's already in line when I enter.

"Hey," I greet.

"Hi," she says with another bright smile. It bothers me that she gets so happy to see me. I don't think I've done anything particularly worthy in order to deserve that smile.

"So, I'd know we said we'd do something today," I start, ignoring the guilt that forms as I register the disappointment in her face. "But I can't."

"Oh," she says, looking away. "I mean, that's ok."

I follow her as she grabs her lunch. I'm relieved that she isn't pitching a fit or even asking for an explanation.

My phone vibrates against my leg. I pull it out to reveal a text message from Jasper.

_Did the warden say you could play?_

I roll my eyes at his stupidity, texting a quick reply.

_She did. She also said Jazzy had to be home by bedtime._

I can't help the smirk as I use his mother's favorite nickname for him. If Jasper is protective of anything, it's his mother.

I hear Bella's voice, but I don't register her words. With a start, it dawns on me that she's talking to me. I look up to meet her wide patient eyes. "What?"

"This weekend?" she repeats herself, sliding her water bottle toward the cashier. I'm reluctant to give her an answer. The heaviness returns to my gut at the thought of having _that_ conversation this weekend.

I pull out my wallet to distract myself from those thoughts and pay for her drink.

"I don't know. I'll let you know," I tell her before scurrying off back to my friends. I know I won't be able to put off the conversation for long. Eventually I'll have to deal with it.

o.0.o

She's quiet on the way to her house. I wonder if she's upset about the cancelled plans. She seemed to have accepted them just as well as she had the last time. I have an inkling that she knows what's coming.

I should just tell her that it's over.

But I don't exactly know how to phrase it. We'd have to actually be a couple to have a breakup and we never were. I don't do relationships. They get messy and complicated, and sadly, I realize that this is already messy. Bella just made it so easy that I forgot I wasn't supposed to extend it. I hate to give it up, but I know it's for the best.

For the both of us really.

As I pull into her driveway, I plan to just spill it out.

_We can't be friends anymore, Bella._ Simple and blunt. Cut the ribbon with sharp words. No leftover threads.

But though the words sit at the tip of my tongue, they don't come out.

"Come inside for a bit, since we don't have the weekend," she says suddenly, grabbing her bag and getting out the car. She doesn't look back and her sudden assertiveness catches me off guard.

I shut off the car and follow her into the house. I close the door behind her and am surprised to find her heading to the stairs.

"You comin'?" she asks halfway up when she realizes I haven't followed. I've never been invited into her bedroom before. I know I shouldn't go up there. I should pull her into the kitchen and just push those reluctant words forward, but my curiosity in like a siren call. Helplessly, I follow her up the steps.

Her room is small, like most of the house, but every square inch screams Bella. Her books are tattered and worn, resting atop her desk, her nightstand, and slumped over on a small shelf. Most of the room is a neutral white and beige, but spots of color draw attention. The bright green pillowcases, the sunshine yellow picture frame, the neon pink flower that holds broken necklaces.

She drops her bag on her desk and turns toward me. I take a moment to take everything in.

"Nice room," I comment and suddenly she's in front of me. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I instinctively wrap mine around her waist. These movements come so natural to me. I wonder when I let myself become part of a couple.

Her fingers play with the hair on the nape of my neck, and she rises up to kiss me. I shouldn't, but I allow her to do it, getting lost in the kiss.

She deepens it and her passion in the kiss surprises me. There's something in her movements that throws me. She's forward and aggressive, and I'm completely helpless to it.

Before I know it, I'm being walked backward, my knees hitting her bed. I sit, and she doesn't hesitate to climb atop my lap, never breaking the kiss. She's never been like this before, and God help me if I don't absolutely love it.

It dawns on me that this may be the final time I get to kiss her. The realization has a greater affect in me than I realize, and soon I can't get enough of her. I can't make this last long enough. I can't imprint the kiss so far deep into my skin, I won't forget it. I know I can't do it, but it doesn't stop me from trying.

In time her taste will fade, and I won't be able to remember how she felt under my fingertips.

She pulls away, and what she does next nearly stops my heart. She pulls her shirt off, and it's not like we haven't messed around before, but these actions are different. They mean something different, and I am torn.

I don't bring sex into things. It's a rule I've managed to keep so far, but I've never wanted anyone the way I've wanted Bella. The want is almost like a physical being, controlling my limbs. It takes my arms and wraps them around her waist, presses my fingers into her skin.

"Bella," I plead, and I'm not sure for what. I don't know if I need her to stop. I don't know if I need her to continue. I just want to find a bit of resolve. I need a breather. I need to cool things down, because my mind is muddled with want and lust and _this_ girl.

"We don't have to…" _do this right now_

"maybe we should…" _slow down, please_

"I don't think…" _I can do this_

I hope that one of my thoughts came out in a completed and coherent sentence.

She pulls away, looking straight into my eyes and I don't think I've ever been so scared. Her eyes are filled with the resolve I've seem to have lost.

"I want to."

And I lose it. I give in. The bridge collapses. Because she wants to, and god knows I want her.

I turn her over, dropping her down on the mattress and we're tugging on fabric and pulling down zippers and pushing off denim. Her skin is endless and smooth, and I watch as my fingertips have the power to draw Goosebumps down her arms and thighs.

Her breaths are heavy, and my eyes are drawn to the movements of her chest. I kiss along the slope of her breast, up to her collarbone and neck, feeling the heat of her skin as the blood rushes to her face. I can tell she's nervous from the way her fingers tremble on my arms. I worry for her.

"Bella, I—" I'm not even sure what I plan to say, but she's having none of it anyway. She brings my mouth down, and the kisses are slow and leisurely. We enjoy each other.

It seems to keep her nerves down, and I want to make her feel good. I want to make her forget anyone and everyone except for me. I want to hear the way her breath hitches when I hit a particularly pleasing spot. I want to hear my name in those breathless pants which make me believe my name will never sound as good as it does when it comes from her.

She provides all I want and more. She's breathless, and her fingers drive into my arms in the way that I know she's close. I move my mouth to her neck, biting gently on the spot where her shoulder and neck meet, and she's gone.

I don't move my head as I ease myself into her. I can't really concentrate on anything other than my movements in that moment. She's everything I never imagined her to be. My skin is on fire, and every nerve is more sensitive than the last. I feel everything and nothing.

I'm being consumed by her, and in this moment I have no fear. I don't resent her. I don't fear her. I'm simply with her. I could fall for this girl. I could drown in her and never worry about taking another breath. It would be too easy. So easy, I'm afraid it's already happened.

I'm soon lost to a pleasure that numbs my fingertips and blurs my vision and leaves me breathlessly panting into her skin. Her scent comforts me and her skin is warm and slick underneath mine.

And though my limbs are loose and relaxed, hers are rigid and tense.

"Are you alright?" I ask, a physical need for her to be okay settling underneath my skin. She nods, but turns away from me, and I know the seeds of separation have been planted.

She turns, taking my arm with her. I know what she wants. I want it too.

I wrap my arms around her, bringing her body into my chest and doing my best to prevent the trees and vines that dare to grow between us. I can already feel them emerging from the crack of space between our skin.

I ask about Charlie, and she assures me he won't be home until morning, granting me a few more hours with her. It won't be enough, but it will be all I allow myself.

And when I finally do pull away, it is like a dull jagged knife ripping through a ribbon.

So much for a clean cut.

**_Hey guys!_**

**_I'm so so so sorry. However, I have a semi legit excuse for being absent._**___**My dear dear laptop got sick and I had to send her to the doctors(aka my dad's techie friend). Of course, my dummy self left my files of the story on my laptop and forgot to switch them over to my flashdrive(my schoolwork kinda took priority)**_**_. But the good news is, I got my laptop back with a clean bill of health and since I kept you waiting, I decided to post right away. I'm sorry I didn't let you guys in on my laptop's health, but I know, as a reader, I would prefer a new chapter with an explanation rather than the explanation alone. _**

**_One more outtake from Edward's POV left. I hope to get it out sometime next week, but life is a frantic mess right now. I will get it out as soon as I possibly can though. _**

****_**I also needed to thank everyone who's been supporting the story as I found out that my story was part of the top ten favorite fic dives for March over at ADF. That is a real honor. You guys all get shiny star stickers and my sincere gratitude. :)**_

_**(Until next week. Hopefully. *crosses fingers*)  
-T**_


	47. Outtake 6

Part 6 (Last one!)

_…you thought I didn't care…_

_You're pathetic_

She hadn't come out and said those words exactly, but they are the ones that play throughout my mind like a broken record.

_You're pathetic_

_Pathetic_

_Pathetic_

And she's right. Of course, she's right. I am a pathetic coward.

I hadn't expected it to end so badly. I hadn't meant to handle things so horribly. It was never my intention for things to go up in flames so quickly, but how could I even begin to explain? How could I have hoped to pull away when I felt as though she had just secured me in shackles and thrown away the key?

So I avoided her all weekend. I did my best to keep my mind away from her and the image of her sleeping form curled up in bed, though my fingers itched to call or text her. I wanted to let her know I was sorry. I wanted to let know I hadn't meant for things to escalate so quickly. I wanted to apologize for my lack of control.

But come Monday I was determined to meet her. I was determined to stop and say…_something_. Anything!

But the words had quickly turned to nausea as I passed her locker, my stomach rolling and rocketing until I had to walk away, grateful that she was had not yet arrived.

Instead, I went to the pretty girl who had been aching for my attention. Anything to keep my mind off the one I actually wanted to see.

I avoided.

But of course, Bella had seen right through that. She had fired away words that struck like a sharp slap against my face, laced with truth and hurt. She had taken a hammer and crushed the cuffs that kept her bond to me, destroying the chains so she was free to walk away.

And there I stood, shackles securely placed and chains that rattled with regret and guilt every time I saw her.

_You're pathetic_

o.0.o

I do my best to push forward. To forget.

It shouldn't be this hard.

Bella Swan was never mine to begin with. I shouldn't miss her as much as I do. I shouldn't see her lying on my pillows, her hair fanned out and her brown eyes shifting colors.

I shouldn't hear her laugh as I flip through TV channels.

I shouldn't smell the wildflower perfume in my car.

But I do. The ghost of her lingers in every space we ever shared.

I hate it.

o.0.o

The air is heavy with smoke, both from the bonfire and Seth's never ending supply of pot. The boy spends half his life high as a kite.

Though the last few snow piles have melted away to puddles, the air still clings to winter's chill. The bonfire is more than just a decorative statement as teenage bodies huddle close. My hoodie offers little warmth, but the fire is deliciously warm.

I find I'm having a hard time interacting with my group of friends. But my accompaniment to the beach seems to satisfy most of them, and they leave me be, sitting on a piece of driftwood.

Jasper, always attuned to even my slightest mood change, slides up next to me. It's both a benefit and a nuisance that Jasper has been my best friend since grade school.

His fingers are holding on the neck of a beer bottle, too cold to actually grasp the body. It's too cold to be at the beach really, but it's the nicest day we've had since early October, and no one is willing to let the day go to waste.

"Gina's been staring at you for like the last twenty minutes. Throw the girl a bone," Jasper jokes, nudging my shoulder. I shrug him off, looking away from the flames and to his face.

"Who?" I ask, and he motions toward the girl sitting across from me. She is wrapped in a heavy blanket, beer can in her hand and talking animatedly to Maggie. "That's Gianna, you fool."

"Whatever. Who gives a fuck?" His words are uncharacteristically harsh, but I know he is still bitter over his failure with Maria. When he had finally told her how he felt—after months of being her fucking puppy dog—she had roughly let him down. She'd accused him of trying to make things complicated and wanting to ruin their friendship—which wasn't as much of a friendship since Jasper was practically treated like her personal slave.

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to her. She's annoying as shit," I admit. The girl is pretty, I'll give her that, but everything she says is a ruse to get a compliment of some sort.

"That's never stopped you before. 'Sides from the way she's looking at you, I don't think she'd mind if you kept the talking at a minimal," Jasper goads, taking another swig of his beer. I shrug,

"I'm just not feeling her."

"What's been eating you, man?"

"Nothing," I say, not wanting to do this now. I don't want to talk deep shit around my drunk and hormonal friends. Especially when the air is numbingly cold, and I can barely think about anything beside the heat of the fire and how to get more of it without actually falling in.

"This about Bella?" he asks and saying her name causes a spiral of images to run through my mind. The same exact images I've been trying so hard to keep away.

It's not that it would be so easy to imagine her there with me. It's not. Bella wouldn't fit with this group of people. But I think that's why it was so refreshing to keep her around. I could be another person around her. I could let another side of myself come free.

I wouldn't have to force myself to sit on a piece of soggy ass drift wood, huddling around a smelly ass fire for warmth.

"Let' s not, Jay," I say, running my hand through my hair and pulling up my hood.

"I'm just saying. I liked you around her."

"It would never have worked out. I'm not staying around for her. I have my shit in order."

"Did she ever ask you, too?" he asks. I shake my head. No. But in time she would have. And she deserves someone who would stick around. Someone who's willing to follow her. If I stay, it would be for all the wrong reasons.

"It's over. I don't want to get into it." He accepts this statement and lets the subject drop. He keeps me company, and we wallow in our girl misery as we stare at the flames lick the pieces of wood.

"Fuck, its fucking freezing," a small petite body litters the air with her airy and chirpy profanities. I've never seen her around, but there are kids here I've never met; so it isn't shocking. She turns toward us with a big as smile on her face. "This what you Forks boy do for fun?"

Jasper laughs. "Well, we'd probably tip cows if we had any."

"Is that a real thing? I can't imagine people actually get a kick out of pushing over a poor defenseless cow," she says, her pretty blue eyes glinting in the light of the fire.

"My cousins sure get a kick out of it. I think the idea of getting caught is where the kick comes from," he explains.

"Your cousins? Where do they live?" she asks, and I chance a glance at Jasper. From the gooey look on his face, you'd never tell that he'd recently sworn off girls. He's already jumped off the deep end, not even caring if there's water below to break his fall.

I wonder how he can do that. How can he be so sure this girl will be different?

I know, from the way she's animatedly flirting, that she's into him, but I don't know that she won't just toss him aside.

Yet, he jumps. Every time.

I couldn't even bring myself to look over the edge.

_Pathetic_

o.0.o

My skin is covered in a dried layer of sweat that cracks and breaks every time I move. My legs are aching from the drills and muscles are limp with exhaustion. It's been a rough practice, and I've pushed myself more than usual.

If I concentrate on the heavy footfalls on the track, I can forget the way she smiled at him today.

If my lungs burn and ache, I can erase the memory of the time she was breathless underneath me.

If my body is in pain, maybe I can ignore the way my insides seem to ache.

"What's this, Edward?" My father says, accusation heavily laced within his voice, as soon as I step into the house. I roll my eyes, because of course some shit would pop up today. I plop my track bag on the kitchen table and turn toward him.

"What's what?" I ask, heading to the fridge.

"You've been accepted into Udub, and you haven't thought to tell your mother and I?" he scolds. A surge of heat runs up my spine as his words register. I whip toward him.

"You were snooping in my room?"

He looks abashed for a moment before his righteous parent ideology pulls him away from it.

"I have every right. You've been keeping this from us!" he shouts, slamming both my acceptance papers on the counter.

"I'm not going to Udub. As you can see, from your _spying_, I've been accepted into Chicago, as well."

"And if I don't pay, how do you expect for that to happen?" he asks, just a hint of the smugness I know too well slipping into his words.

"I don't know. Maybe the scholarships I've been busting my ass for. Not to mention Gram's college fund, which is under my name," I snap back, anger licking heavily down my back. I turn to head out the kitchen, his very presence igniting the fire.

"Don't you walk out on me!" he yells, reaching to grab my arm. I pull away.

"Why the fuck not?"

"HEY!" a sharp female voice is suddenly jolted into the kitchen. Both my father and I startle, turning toward the voice. My mother walks into the kitchen, placing her large black purse on the table. Her perfume immediately fills up the room, and I wonder how I could have possibly missed her entrance. "You do NOT talk to your father that way, young man."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks for finally acknowledging your relationship to me!"

My words seem to slap my mother's pristine face. Her plum shaded lips fall open in surprise, and I push away the guilt as I catch her golden green eyes cover themselves in a sheen of tears. I pretend the bile isn't rising in the back of my throat when she speaks her next words, pushed from her mouth like they come straight from her stomach. "What has gotten into you?"

I look away because I don't know how to answer that. I don't know the _answer_. I'm simply so tired of pretending. An anger I'm unfamiliar with has freed itself from a cage deep within my mind, and I pretend that the key doesn't have deep brown eyes and rosy cheeks.

"What has gotten into _me_? What about what has gotten into _you_? What difference does it make if I'm away at Chicago or over at Seattle? It's not like you'll miss my presence!"

"Of course we'll miss you. How can you say we won't?" My father steps up, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't know, because you're never around. You're so busy avoiding each other; you've managed to avoid me, too! It seems like you need me more to keep this shamble of a marriage together than I need you as parents."

"Edward…" my mother's voice is soft and thin like a breath. Tears have slipped down her face, and she slowly makes her way across the kitchen to join me. "Oh, baby, that was never our intention."

She reaches out to touch me and I jerk away, the anger and bitterness too thick.

She pulls back, and I chance a glance at my father. He's looking down at a scuff on the floor, avoiding eye contact.

What a mess.

I grab my eyes and head out, running away from the can I've just opened.

_Pathetic_

o.0.o

I'm nearly on her street before I realize I'm not welcomed there. She won't join me for a silent ride. She won't make me feel better simply with her presence.

Fuck.

I hate that I miss her. I hate that she tattoos my skin, my very being, with longing.

I don't turn onto her street, instead driving straight towards Seth's. He lives closest to her. He's not much for conversation, but I know he's good for a joint and some dulled up senses.

Which is exactly what I need.

o.0.o

I don't return home. I send a quick text to let them know I crashed at Seth's.

I don't return home until later the next day. When I do, I'm surprised to find both of them sitting at the table. They don't hear me enter, and their voices are a low buzz of conversation. My mother's tinkling laugh breaks through, and I don't know which shocks me more: her laughter or their seemingly polite conversation.

I cautiously walk into the kitchen. I don't know what to expect. It unnerves me.

They're sitting at the table, a half empty bottle of wine between them, two wine glasses resting in front of them.

My mother notices me first, dabbing a napkin on her lips to catch any strands of the burgundy wine before speaking.

"Edward. I'm glad you're home," she says. My father turns in his seat to glance at me.

"Will you join us, please?" he asks. My heart thumps at their odd behavior.

I join the table, pulling out the chair slowly. I feel like any sudden movement may break the calm mood and set them into fits of rage, which would have been closer to what I was expecting anyway.

"We thought long and hard about what you said last night," my mother starts. My eyes search hers, wondering what that means.

"Not that it couldn't be done with more respect, but we understand where you're coming from," my father adds. I'm sure I must have been thrown into an episode of twilight zone.

"You're right. We've let our problems get in the way of our parenting. That is shameful, and there is no excuse for it. We want to be better for you. We're not sure if that means together or apart, but we're willing to find out," my mother explains, her hands reaching out to grasp one of mine. I allow her to, and her thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice slipping into the room for the first time. It cracks, and I sit up straighter and clear my throat.

"My colleagues have recommended some excellent psychologist to visit. We think it could be beneficial. For all of us," my father says.

"You mean like a shrink?"

"Well, yes. Some counseling. Couple's counseling and family therapy. You're mother and I aren't sure what to do next in terms of our marriage. We'd like to fix it and work on it. We'd like to work on our family too. We'd very much like you to join us," he continues.

Their words settle in the air around me, jumbling around my head until I can pull them apart and string them together again. I don't know how I feel about it honestly. I'm not entirely sure we can be functional again.

They're making an effort, though. That's what counts, I supposed.

I shrug.

"Yeah. Ok."

o.0.o

Effort.

It makes all the differences.

I try to apply it to other parts of my life too. I put in a stronger effort in my school, my sports, in getting over her.

It pays off in some areas and burns and crashes in others.

Like when I see her walking down the street with Alec. I find the envy hasn't waned, instead it's worse. Because now he can touch her, he can kiss her, and I simply can't. It burns painfully in the bottom of my stomach, and I wish I could will away his attraction for her with my gaze alone.

She doesn't stay long, understandably. She's moving on. She's forgetting. She's doesn't appreciate the reminder.

But like a twisted perverted masochist, I enjoy just being around her again, getting to smell her wildflower scent as she pushes past. It cements the scent in my memory just as it has begun to fade.

I don't watch her leave, trying to hold onto the morsel of dignity I have left.

"That was weird," Alice comments, her mind already forgetting it as make our way to the arcade we left Jasper in. Turns out the girl at the bonfire was everything Jasper needed. She caught him as he fell, and he never would have found her if he hadn't leapt.

"Just someone I use to know," I say, and the words are bitter on my tongue.

"Well, that explains it," she says with a giggle, her eyes rolling. I nudge her petite body, and she laughs. I smile, but my good mood has been ruined for the night.

o.0.o

Why am I doing this?

Why am I bothering? She won't want to see me. She won't want to hear what I have to say.

But still, I know that I owe her an apology. I owe her the chance to throw it back in my face too.

I run my hand down my face and step out my car. She hasn't responded to the text, but I'm hoping she'll come down.

My hands shake with nerves. I don't know what about tonight caused me to come. Maybe it was seeing her friend and Alec laughing at prom. Maybe it was the subtle hope that I had even the slightest of chances. I don't know.

I'm wondering if she's even going to bother coming out when the front door swings open. I push off the car and stand straight. She comes to her front stoop and walks no further. She's wearing a pair of pajama pants and tank top.

I wonder what it would have been to see her in a gown, make-up and hair done. It would have been an experience, I'm sure.

The air is stale around us for a moment as she waits for me to approach. I do, slowly.

"I saw Alec at prom with Angela," I tell her, because I'm hoping she'll provide an explanation. She does, and I can't help but smile at her selflessness. She's never one to ask for anything. "I wish you would have come."

My words seem to stir the air around us. She looks away, and her arms cross around her tighter. Her next sentence is spoken with a fragility I hate hearing in her voice. "What do you want, Edward?"

"Take a ride with me?" I ask and do my best to keep the quiver out my voice. Her eyes meet mine in surprise, and I wonder for a brief moment if it will be the last time I get to stare into them.

She surprises me, as she always manages to do, and nods once.

I lead her into my passenger seat and quickly get into the driver's side.

I don't talk at first, allowing my thoughts to settle as I focus on the drive. I watch the street lights cast shadow over my Volvo and take in her scent. I wonder how long it will last after she is gone.

I am reluctant to talk; because I know as soon as I say my peace, there will be no reason to keep her around. I swallow some air and explain why I needed the drive.

Of course she already knows. I was blind not to see her settling underneath my skin and learning my habits in such a short time.

I shoot the arrow straight to the point.

"You were right, Bella."

"About?" she asks, fully turning her face toward me.

"About Pudge. I think he was brave. I think it takes a lot of courage to love or care about someone knowing how much they could hurt you." I don't know how I manage to get the words out, but my chest feels lighter. I was a coward. She knows that. I know that. It's about time I admitted it aloud.

"Yeah, I've been in his place," she says, the hurt still lingering in her voice. I hate that I've done that. I pull over, quickly realizing that this conversation requires my full attention. I'm not sure how I'll get through it, but it should have been done two months ago.

"I never meant to hurt you, Bella. I never meant for things to go as far as they did," I tell her. Watch as the words seem to pierce the walls she put up around her. I can see the bricks tumble right in front of me. "I'm sorry. I know the words can't possibly be enough, but I am."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asks and I can hear the quiver of tears in her voice. I pray that she doesn't cry. She's always been so strong in front of me, and I don't want to be the one that destroys that.

"Because I want to be brave. Because you deserve to hear it. Above all, I just want you to know that you were different for me, Bella."

And though the words are probably the most honest ones I've ever shared with her, she scoffs at them. It hurts that she doesn't believe it, but I've done a piss poor job at giving her reason to.

I try to better formulate my thoughts.

"I can't get you off my mind, Bella." It's true. She's everywhere, having settled herself in almost every part of my life. I see her in my bed. On my couch. In my car. "I miss you like hell, and if I thought I stood a chance, I would ask for another try." I hadn't meant to admit that, but it's the truth. I would do my best not to fuck it up and despite how badly I want another shot, I know I don't deserve it. "I hate that I hurt you, and I just want you to know."

The last words seem to break her, tears spilling over her cheeks and down to her chin. I watch them glint in the street lights for only a moment before falling down on her hands. When she takes a breath, I can almost see the vibration in the air. She wipes away the glittering pathways on her cheeks.

Her "I can't" echos in my mind. It fills the car and suffocates me. I was fully prepared for her choice and still it stings painfully on my skin. I look away from her.

She's trying not to sob. I know this choice isn't easy for her. I know I hurt her. I screwed up.

It's a fair decision really. I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. Yet I know, if I made her feel an ounce of what I'm currently feeling, I should be grateful to even be talking to her right now.

There is nothing more to be said between us, so with a final squeeze of her hand, I take her home. The drive is silent as we stew in our own hurt. I know this is the final piece in her healing process, despite it being the beginning of mine.

It takes less than five minutes to make it back to her home. She places her hand on the handle, eager to flee but something holds her back. She turns to me and offers a wry smile.

"I've talked to my mom." she says and I can't help the smile that takes over. I'm glad. I'd like to think I had a part in it, but I'm reluctant to give myself any credit.

She tells me she's going to visit during the summer, and I find it a bit relieving. Maybe in 3 months time I can look at her without feeling guilt and regret.

I share the news about my own family and am comforted by her warm smile and excitement. I've been dying to tell her since the argument, and I'm glad I can finally share the news. It gives me hope.

Maybe we can never get back to where we were, but perhaps we can be friends.

When the air has settled, she squeezes my hand in goodbye. I grasp her fingers and offer my goodbye kiss. I try not to focus on the fact that this may be the last time I get to touch her.

She steps out the car and closes the door with a resounding thud.

I drive away from her, keeping my eyes on the road and knowing her silhouette stands in my rearview mirror.

**_Oh my goodness, I am so late with this chapter. I know. I'm sorry. It wasn't forgotten. It just got very very busy, and I had to put this on the back burner (hopefully the length makes up for it?)_**

**_The last one folks. Tell me what ya think? Did this make you hate him, love him, forgive him? I love hearing what you think!_**

**_I don't have a sequel for this story in the works. I might post some future outtakes if Edward and Bella feel they need to share something, but other than that, this story is officially finished! _**

**_I feel like I say this way too much, but honestly THANK YOU. This story was so much fun, and I have everyone who read, recommended, reviewed, and chatted with me to thank for it. It's been so great, and you guys have been so fudging awesome. It saddens me to close this story, but it was awesome while it lasted. _**

**_Yours truly,  
Tanya_**


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